


The Diversity of Life and Love

by littlewonder



Series: Otherfuckers [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Androids, Autism, Conversations, Eugenics Wars (Star Trek), F/M, Love Confessions, Major Character Injury, Nudity, Porn with Feelings, Science, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Separations, Therapy, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 05:06:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16469333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlewonder/pseuds/littlewonder
Summary: Delia Hardeck is a xenopaleontologist who’s worked hard to get where she is. When she transfers to the Enterprise on her way to pursue a palaeontological breakthrough, she quickly becomes enamoured with Lieutenant Commander Data. As her feelings grow, Delia must grapple with her inner demons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not an American, so I don't usually use American spelling, but this show does, so I decided to go with a light touch of American spelling; specific words will be Americanised, but not all.
> 
> Also, this fic deals with paleontology, but because there is no canonical paleontological information in the known Star Trek universe, I made up those details based on what I know about paleontology and Star Trek canon.
> 
> This is for the These Stories Belong to Us collection by fanficdoc on Tumblr
> 
> https://fanficdoc.tumblr.com

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue: Delia discovers life where it shouldn't be, prepares for journey to Rigel IV to study it further.

Dr Delia Hardeck had come far to be here. As a xenopaleontologist, her calling was far from the easiest to break into. The challenge of discovering the prehistory of certain worlds was even more difficult. She came by her research through her tenacity and hunger for knowledge. As a specialist in ancient life forms, across eras, across planets both alive and past living, she collected evidence in a never-ending search to understand the scope that life took across the galaxy.

And she wasn't alone. There were other xenopaleontologists like her were scattered sparsely throughout Starfleet. But even in the Geology labs, Hardeck never grew too close to any of her colleagues, let alone her shipmates, and she liked it that way. For Delia Hardeck, the work was enough.

"Dr Hardeck," said Commander Coon, walking into the room holding another sample in her hands. "I think you should take a look at this."

Dr Hardeck looked up from examining a fossil she had found at Deneb IV, to see Commander Coon holding in her hands a slice of rock that the geological team had taken from Rigel IV.

Instantly, Dr Hardeck set aside her study of the Deneb IV fossil, and cleared room for Dr Coon to set the slab of rock sample on her desk. "What did you find?" she asked, as Dr Coon came around to her side of the desk to set it down.

"Why don’t you take a look for yourself?" she asked, and pointing out to the Irillium layer in the rock.

Dr Hardeck examined the thin layer of rock. She had to place the sample on ever-increasing magnification before she saw it.

"Life," she breathed, looking up at her colleague in astonishment. “This is impossible. The Irillian era was a very recent period in Rigel’s history. It was supposed to be Rigel’s last major extinction. To see life holding on at such a late period is... remarkable."

“This rock sample might give us some insight to that last extinction,” said Commander Coon. “Very little is known of it. It was previously assumed that it was caused by the last coughing breaths of a long-dying planet after the manipulations of the Masters’ interference. Yet this evidence suggests that life continued to survive in pockets across the planet at this time."

"How did you find this?" asked Dr Hardeck.

"This sample is part of a much larger sample we took from Rigel IV some time ago," said Dr Coon. “It was a geological examination. We wanted to know more about the age and composition of the land under the metropolis since so little is known of the prehistory of the planet before it was paved over by the Rigellians; there were no geological examinations prior to the building of the metropolis, but we know it’s more ancient than the Earth, so it’s an irresistible draw. While carrying out these studies, we discovered that the composition of this slice had irregularities in it that we traced to this Irillian rock. On further inspection, we discovered this imprint of what must be your specialty: ancient life."

“Well, I’m not a micropaleontologist, but you’re certainly right. I am the most qualified on this science vessel to research this phenomenon."

“Dr Hardeck, I want to send you to Rigel IV to gather more samples,” said Commander Coon. “I’m fairly sure it should be a simple thing to gather more evidence which you can study from the same place we got this one."

“Are you suggesting a transfer?"

“It will only be temporary,” Commander Coon assured her. “We will swap paleontologists, and get you back as soon as you collect the evidence. I’m placing this study as a high priority."

“Acknowledged,” said Dr Hardeck.

In the few days before the transfer was arranged, Dr Hardeck had managed to study the initial sample, run through the database about what was known of Rigel IV and the Irillian period specifically, and track the known evolution of life on that planet.

It was at this time that Commander Coon came back for an update.

“Dr Hardeck, how are your initial studies coming along?"

“Very well. I have studied the sample, as well as searched the paleontological records for any available information to aid my studies."

“Have you looked at all into whether there are any other experts who have brought samples up from Rigel IV in the past?”

"I have looked thoroughly into it, however there were no records in any other xenopaleontologists’ logs of any similar discoveries of life inside Irillium rock on Rigel. Although some studies have been made into the prehistory of the planet, they are mostly incomplete. Paleontologists were practically non-existent in the pioneering age of Starfleet, so these studies are still ongoing," said Dr Hardeck. "Hopefully, I can do something to add to those studies, if not create new avenues for study."

“Good,” said Dr Coon, “I would recommend relying on what studies already exist in furthering your research on this, assuming I can get you out to the Rigel system. Under our current heading, we won’t pass by anywhere near Rigel IV. However, I have put in a request with the captain for a temporary transfer to the starship Enterprise. It is my understanding that, they will be passing by the area within a few weeks. And it might be a good opportunity to catch up on their geological advances while you're there."

"Thank you. I have every intention of making the most of my time there, assuming the assignment is approved."

“I have no doubt it will be,” said Commander Coon.

With she left Dr Hardeck to her work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia transfers onto the Enterprise, and meets Data.

"Energize."

Dr Delia Hardeck materialised aboard the Enterprise, and found herself greeted with a small welcoming party.

A balding man stood at the front of the group and offered his hand as she descended the transporter pad with her case in one hand. 

"Welcome aboard the starship Enterprise," he said. "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard."

Dr Hardeck shook his hand firmly. "The captain himself, come to greet me," Hardeck replied, somewhat stunned. “Pleased to meet you."  
"Well, of course," said Picard. "For the next several weeks, you are to become a member of my crew. I must put my best foot forward. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."  
She smiled to herself. "Well, as you probably know, I am Dr Delia Hardeck. And who else has come to greet me?"

Gesturing to the man, or rather the figure, to his left, Picard said, "May I introduce you to Lieutenant Commander Data."

Hardeck looked to Data, and was immediately astonished, and fascinated, by his appearance. His skin, or what she took for skin, was whiter than even the paint on the walls. And his eyes, too, as they turned to her, were a more dazzling colour of green than any human could possess, like the ancient iron-rich seas of Earth.

"May I ask," began Hardeck, searching for precisely the right words to form the question, "where… what kind of life form the Lieutenant Commander is?"

"He is an android."

Data incrementally shifted his head in a curious response to this exchange. There was something unhuman, but human-like, about this behaviour. But how to explain just why that was, Hardeck couldn't quite put her finger on. “I see,” Hardeck told Picard.

"In addition, I can also speak for myself," said Lieutenant Commander Data.

"Yes, of course," said Hardeck, blushing.

Looking at Lieutenant Commander Data, Dr Hardeck knew that studying him wasn't her purpose here, but nevertheless, she was drawn in to him; he was absolutely fascinating to observe. And of course, she had a certain interest in all life forms, although technological ones were far from her specialty.

Forcing herself to focus on the moment, Dr Hardeck held out her hand to Data. "I assume shaking hands is one of your functions?" she said.

Data stepped forward and shook her hand. The pressure of his hand in hers was perfect. The texture of his hand was soft like skin, yet metallic like gold plating. The touch was disarming; the sensation of even a simple handshake was uncommon enough for her that the new texture lighted her nerves and filled her mind with the curious sensation.

"Well, Dr Hardeck seems a bit dazed from her journey. Data, would you escort her, along with her things, to her quarters?"

"I’d actually prefer some of these things go to my station at the lab."

"There will be plenty of time to do that after we have you settled. Data, would you ―"

"I got it," said Dr Hardeck, lifting her case higher in demonstration of her capabilities. "I’m quite alright, I was merely... acquainting myself with your crew. I won’t need any help." She looked at Data and forced herself to smile at him. "Please show me to my room, and then to the lab," she said.

Inclining his head, Data said, "As you wish," and led her from the transporter room.

Once they were out in the halls together, Data attempted to draw her into conversation. "Do you intend to unpack anything once we arrive at your room, or would you rather to go straight to the lab after you arrive there?" he asked. His voice was light, soft… and kind.

"There isn’t very much to unpack in my room," she replied. "I have brought my uniform, of course, and a few essentials. Most of my things are study materials, which will belong at the lab."

"I see."

He didn't press her further. He didn't force any expectations on her.

That was refreshing. If it was anyone else ― if it was a human escorting her about the ship ― she would've simply fallen into silence once the conversation began, and allowed to come to a natural end. But there was no need to perform small talk or idle chatter with Data. It was like he could already read her, and she already felt more comfortable with him than she often had with anyone of her own species. 

She had the feeling she could tell him anything, and it wouldn’t matter. She even felt the urge to try it.

"When you first beamed aboard the Enterprise," Data said, "you stared at me for a long moment. Did you have some objection to my appearance inside the transporter room?"

"Not at all. I simply found you…" Beautiful. No, she couldn't say that. "Fascinating."

"I see," said Data. "What was it about me that you found so fascinating?"

Your eyes, your skin, your movements. "You appear human, but not human. There are small differences, so odd that I thought perhaps you were an alien, rather than a robot."

"Android," he said. "There is a difference."

"Android," she repeated, committing it to memory so as not to offend him in the future. "What is the difference?" she added.

"An android is a mechanical facsimile of a human; a robot is not."

"I see. Duly noted."

Once they reached Dr Hardeck’s quarters, she quickly settled her things in, and then closed the case and picked it up again.

Wordlessly, they left the room together and took the turbolift up to the geologists’ lab; by now, she was used to having her palaeontologist’s station inside a division of the Geology Department.

As they set off together down the hall, Hardeck looked over at Data again, thinking about striking up a conversation with him. She almost never initiated conversations with others, unless it was important to her work; under normal circumstances, she neither liked nor trusted outsiders, which was to say, people other than herself. But this was not a person, or at least, not a real person. Perhaps he would be safe.

This was ― to excuse the phrase ― just an android. Anything she had to reveal about herself would be safe with him; he had no emotions, so she would have no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed. And there was no part of herself she would likely have to justify to him.

Data looked back at her. "Are you attempting to analyse me again, Doctor?"

Hardeck looked down and blushed, trying to convince herself once again that this was just an android, that she was being ridiculous.

"I don't know that much about technology," she admitted. "I don't know the ins and outs of the technology inside you. I know only to the level I need to carry out my work. So I’m afraid there isn’t much to analyse."

"Then why were you staring?"

She continued to stare for a moment or two, trying to think of a suitable answer. "You’re a mystery, Data. That’s all I can say."

"Humans are a mystery to me, as well. You are in good company."

An amused smirk. "Do you study humans?"

"I want to be more like a human, so I study them as often as I can."

Hardeck thought about this. She didn't know if she understood humans herself ― she had always been something of an outsider, even in her own culture ― but however she could, she wanted to help. "Well, if you ever have a question… I'll try to answer them if I can."

"In exchange, I will also attempt to answer any questions you might have to ask me," replied Data.

The turbolift doors opened, and Data led her down the hall.

"You know," added Hardeck, "I joined Starfleet with the knowledge that I could be killed by a whole host of different things. But I made that choice because I decided my work was more important than my life. As such, I try to back up my work as often and in as many different ways that I can. Being an android, you would likely be able to store my work on your memory drive, yes?"

“Yes,” said Data.

“Then I would appreciate it if you could do me that favour, Data. If you’re willing."

"Of course,” he said, "I’d be fascinated to store and peruse any information you have. After all, I did an Honours on Exobiology. Perhaps I could offer some insight into your work."

“My work isn’t much different, except that it deals with ancient, often extinct life forms."

"Perhaps you could talk me through it," said Data.

“Sure,” said Hardeck. “And perhaps you could talk me through your own operation. I've never even met an android before, let alone used one for any purpose."

"Of course," repeated Data. "I would be happy to guide you in my operations."

Hardeck raised an eyebrow at him. "Happy?"

"A human expression. I do not feel emotions; I am an android."

She smiled to herself. "Yes, Data, I know. I haven't forgotten."

Data said nothing, only moved his head incrementally again. There seemed to be something on his mind.

He looked confused. She had to remind herself this was nothing more than a robotic simulacrum of human expression. Confusion was an emotion; androids don't have emotions. And she wasn't like the rest of her race; she would not allow herself to be fooled by appearances alone.

They continued to Geology Lab 2, and entered. Data introduced Hardeck to the rest of the team, and each member introduced themselves and shook her hand.

As the each member began to catch her up on each of their most recent studies, Data moved to leave the room.

Delia grabbed his arm. "Wait," she said, "not yet."

He gave her that same confused look again. Damn endearing. Her heart twisted secretly in her chest.

She glanced briefly at her teammates. "Just give us a moment."

They nodded, and Delia pulled Data into a corner of the room. "My work. Would you mind uploading it to your memory drive now?"

"I do have other duties to attend to," he said, expressing a relief in his face that she was sure she must be imagining.

"You’re an android. Surely it wouldn't take that long?"

"Is there much?"

"There is enough to keep me occupied for the next few weeks, at least. It shouldn’t take you too long. It would be a relief knowing I had another backup."

"You didn't bring over everything?"

"I have what I need to work with. You can do it later if you like. But it would be a relief to know I am not the sole carrier of this information."

"Then I will do it now."

Delia smiled. "Good. Thank you. You know, I’m sure you would be quite invaluable on a science vessel like the Saratoga."

Data, who had already carried the rest of Delia’s things to her assigned table, was already going through her notes and accompanying samples.

For a moment, she saw him as she was when she had first found the science: so wrapped up in it, so excited. But he was an android. Just an android…

And androids don't have emotions. There was no "fascinating" muttered under his breath, no spark in his eyes. They were simply focused as he scanned her most precious information.

Then, for just a brief flash, she thought she saw them light up.

No... Could he really have…?

No. It was impossible. Just a trick of the light.

She returned to her colleagues. She answered no questions about Data, but returned conversation to the most recent paleontological findings made aboard the Enterprise, as a matter of catching herself up. In turn, she briefed the team on her findings and her mission. They mutually agreed to help each other out during her stay on the Enterprise.

By the time Dr Hardeck had completed her orientation, Data had caught up on all her notes, samples, and logs. Finally, she allowed him to return to his duties, with the proviso that he would occasionally return to update himself on her progress.

Data left, and Dr Hardeck returned to her work, refusing to hear no word from her colleagues that weren’t strictly work-related.

***

At the end of working hours that day, Dr Hardeck was invited up to Ten Forward for drinks. She declined, telling her teammates that she was simply tired, and wanted to head back to her quarters.

Nevertheless, they insisted on taking the same turbolift with her.

"Ten Forward."

"Deck 8, Section 12."

After a moment, one of her new colleagues said, "Deck 8, eh? They have you stationed on the same deck as Counselor Troi and Commander Riker, two of the senior officers aboard this ship. They must think highly of you."

Dr Hardeck said nothing.

"Still, it's a convenient deck to be on," said another. "So close to Ten Forward, you could come down and join us whenever you want, if you change your mind."

Although she knew there was a certain amount of expectations held by her colleagues to socialise, she just kept staring determinedly forward. Perhaps this woman believed that Dr Hardeck needed a good friend, and was volunteering for the job. However, she didn’t want or need such a friend, and was far more content on her own.

The turbolift opened at Deck 10. All around her, her colleagues climbed out. One colleague, Dr Arion, paused at the door, looking back at her with hesitation.

With a sudden flash of memory, she realised this was the woman from earlier, who had invited her to reconsider joining them in Ten Forward. She hadn’t even been looking at her before, so she didn’t notice until now.

Dr Arion held a question in her eyes, one Dr Hardeck could immediately decipher.

"Go ahead, Doctor," said Dr Hardeck. "I really am just tired."

Dr Arion left to follow her group. The doors closed.

No doubt she would have to set her straight eventually. Right now, that conversation would have to wait. It was too difficult a topic to deal with now.

The turbolift opened on Deck 8, and Dr Hardeck moved calmly towards her quarters. Once she had entered them and closed the door, she leaned back against it with a heavy sigh.

She moved towards the replicator. Thinking of her colleagues down in Ten Forward, of the way they would talk of her, she moved to order a drink of her own.

Yet none came to mind.

"Computer…" she said, thinking. She released another sigh. "Water, room temperature."

It appeared before her and she downed it in one. Resisting the urge to smash the glass on the ground, she calmly moved and gently placed the glass into the replicator and got rid of it.

Moving to the back of a red sofa that furnished the room, Delia squeezed her fingernails into the upholstery. Here in the privacy of her own room, she would be free to let out whatever emotions she had repressed throughout the day without anyone being any the wiser, an old habit of hers.

The emotions of the day now came over her, and rage pulsed through her. She thought of her colleagues in the geology lab, of the friendly mask of all those humans who surrounded her throughout the day. She knew all too well that it was an act; her fellow humans would no more accept the real her than any alien would.

Then she thought of Data.

A little anger drained out of her at the thought. Data was neither human nor alien, but an android. What that made him in all this, she didn’t know. But perhaps he was the only one who might understand.

More than that, though, she could not ignore her feelings of affection towards him. Perhaps it was borne out of that imagined safety of his understanding; having no emotions certainly meant that he was incapable of thinking ill of her like the others would. 

But emotions were not the only important part of a conscious mind, no matter what her fellow humans thought; although Data was incapable of prejudice, she might still earn his distrust another way.

She had to make sure that never happened.

Even if humans thought that friends were imperative, it wasn't something Delia had ever needed. It wasn't for friendship that Delia, who had now let go of the sofa and was walking around to sit on it, now thought of pursuing Data. But it was certainly possible. All she wanted from him, she thought as she let go of the sofa long enough to walk around and sit on it, was simply the knowledge of his understanding, and nothing more. 

Yet she even as she thought it, she wondered, was she really content to leave him alone like she did the others? She knew she liked him, so strongly that leaving him alone became more difficult. But she had always had the strength to stand on her own. She should now, too.

Delia sank back into the red cushions and thought. She did not know the location of Data’s quarters, so she couldn't go to visit him. She might find him in Ten Forward, if he was anything like the humans, but going there meant meeting with her colleagues and making nice, which she was in no mood to do.

Perhaps in the morning she would go looking for him...

She realised that she didn't even know what, apart from gathering data, was even his job on the ship. And gathering data was a broad field: he could be anywhere.

Delia settled in for the night, and allowed her emotions to wash over her until she had to hold them in another day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia has isolated herself, but that all changes thanks to the interference of one Deanna Troi.

After a few days of this self-imposed isolation, the familiar cracks were starting to form. Her colleagues were starting to question her about it during work time, to which she replied with her usual statement of her boundaries.

Yet, that would not seem to be the end of it because soon, she found her room visited by Deanna Troi, the ship’s counselor.

It was during her period of emotional recuperation that Delia heard the door chime.

She took a moment to gather herself together, putting her mental wall back in place and standing at attention, before saying, "Enter."

Counselor Troi walked in the room.

"Hello, Delia. I heard you've been socially isolating yourself. You should know, that isn't a healthy attitude to have, and I think you should try reaching out more."

"I’m well aware what conventional wisdom would say," said Dr Hardeck. "I just don't hold much store by it. My life is simply that: my life. It is up to me to live the way I choose to. This is the way I choose to spend it."

"I understand that," said Counselor Troi. "But I think the way that you're choosing to spend your time is one that will ultimately harm you, and I’m concerned. I want to ask you to arrange to speak to me in my office."

"You mean as one of your clients?"

"Yes, as one of my clients."

"I decline."

"Does this life really work for you?" asked Counselor Troi. "I am sensing a great deal of hostility from you. I think you should talk it out with someone."

"That someone meaning you?"

"Yes."

Dr Hardeck had been sure to keep all trace of her underlying emotions out of her voice, and now she cursed herself for giving herself away. Unless there was something more going on…

"Are you an empath?"

"Yes, that's right. I’m a Betazoid, so it comes with the territory. Perhaps on your last ship you were able to get by suffering in silence, but it won’t be that way on this ship. I can arrange an order from the captain to send you to me, but I’d rather you come yourself. We can keep this strictly between us. No one else needs to know about this, if you don't wish them to."

It seemed as though the Enterprise ran a tough ship. Delia tried to think herself out of this, but came up short.

"Fine. Will you be available tomorrow evening, say 1800 hours?"

"That will be fine."

"See you there."

Counselor Troi left, and the door closed behind her.

With a frustrated shout, Delia hurled a cushion from the couch across the room.

***

Delia Hardeck entered Counselor Troi’s office at the assigned time.

"Well, I’m here. What do you want me to do now?"

"Sit down, Delia."

She did so. Her position was fully erect and on edge.

"Relax, Delia. I'm not going to hurt you."

"You’re going to probe my mind. What could be worse?"

"I’m not going to probe your mind," said Troi. "Just think of me as an ordinary counselor."

"But you're not one. You’re an empath. Probably a telepath too. You could do it."

"I could, but… I'm not going to. Delia, I’m not going to anything that you're uncomfortable with ―"

“You already have. You read my emotions, you roped me into coming here,” said Delia.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Delia,” said Troi. “From now, I will refrain from invading your space as much as possible. I do understand how harmful such an invasion would be for you, and I do want to help you, Delia. I really did think it was in your best interests. But I want you to feel like you can tell me anything in here. From now on, I will sense your emotions, but I won’t pry into your mind."

"What’s the difference? It’s still prying into my consciousness. In fact, your prying into my emotions might even be worse."

"Why do you think that, Delia?"

"And stop using my name at every opportunity. Especially in that condescendingly calm voice. I can’t stand it. You want me to be open with you, yet you won’t be open with me. I know it's all a part of the counselor’s facade. You think I don't know how you operate?"

"Have you been to a counselor before?" asked Troi.

"You could say that. I was in and out of all kinds of specialists’ offices as a child. No one knew what was wrong with me, they just knew something was. Didn’t find out what I was until I was 17, and it was something I've tried to hide ever since. And I’m not going to tell you, either. I have never fit in, and I hate that I have to. I come from a society that claims to embrace difference, and maybe that’s true. But not for me."

“Why not for you?"

“Because my particular brand of difference was always... threatening to some people. A reminder of the past. A scar on the heart of the Federation. And no, don’t even think about asking why. I’m not going to tell you."

"So you isolated yourself. Why ―"

"Why do I isolate myself? When I was a child, I was a much worse case than you see before you today. Even when I was young, I could tell that those around me hated me, didn’t feel I belonged, and so I began to I hate them in return. And I never said a word. They didn’t know what I was, they just knew I was wrong. They didn’t know what I was, they just made their own assumptions about me, like kids do. They convinced themselves they knew what I was, and condemned me for it.

"And isn’t it interesting, that even in this advanced age, we don't teach ordinary people about disabilities or how to accommodate them. Because that’s what I really am. And so I was disadvantaged because of what I was assumed to be, rather than what I am."

“You could’ve used your voice."

“And said what? I didn’t know what I was, either. All I knew was what others said I was. Freak. Robot. I didn’t have a voice. Even if I had been taught sign language for when I couldn’t speak... but I was defenceless, and angry, some of that anger was turned in against myself. Still is. No one ever tried to help me; I was only ever given lessons on how to fit in. Lessons that I eventually rejected. If I couldn't be accepted for who I was, I didn't want to be accepted at all."

"But you're not a child anymore."

"No. But some of it’s worse. Some of it’s better. It still affects me now. I’m still the one that has to accommodate ordinary people. I have always been looked down upon, been thought of as lesser. I learned to distrust and resent those around me. And I still do."

"But you were accepted by society, at least on some level. You were accepted into Starfleet, your work acknowledged."

"To some extent, that is true. But my work as a xenopaleontologist is still undervalued and underrepresented within Starfleet. Starfleet wants scientists in its ranks whose science is useful to them. My science is an exploration of life forms that aren’t interesting or useful to mainstream society. It is full of uncivilized, unimportant animals and plants. It is a science based more on curiosity than application. It is only because we are explorers by our mission statement, and because we are in peacetime, that my work is considered to have any validity at all."

"So you feel devalued," said Troi.

"Undervalued would probably be more correct."

"Undervalued, then," said Troi. "And that would account for the hostility I felt the other night in your quarters."

"We haven't yet gotten onto that part yet."

"Then please continue."

Delia thought of the children who had bullied her in the past. "When children don't understand others, they bully them. There has been evidence of this from both recorded history and from outlying contemporary records. You must know this."

"While it’s certainly true that rampant prejudice against all manner of humans was used to bully them and even prosecute them for centuries, both for children and adults, that sort of behaviour hasn’t occurred for a few hundred years."

"That’s what the history books say. That’s what most Federation citizens believe. And yet, I think it would be the height of arrogance to pretend we have evolved entirely. It’s what the Victorians believed, it's what people of the 20th Century believed, and it’s what we still believe today."

"So you have been bullied?"

"Not here, not in Starfleet. Not for years. But I still carry the memories around with me. I am bound to them. I have made progress since childhood, on my own, without any counselor, though some have tried, and some have even convinced themselves that they've helped me."

"But they haven't?"

"No. They drew wild conclusions about me based on little evidence, told me nothing about myself I didn't already know, and offered no solutions I wasn't already using. And they had the same prejudices as any ordinary citizen."

"And all this was on Earth?"

"Yes."

"And what about Starfleet?"

"I didn't want to go through all that again. I knew well enough what the result would be. Most humans, including those in Starfleet, seem to carry the same biases of our entire species. We have even placed ourselves at the centre of the universe, like the figures of our long-dead past who first contemplated our place in the universe."

“And what about aliens within Starfleet?” asked Troi.

“They seem to hold the same principles that Starfleet does, so I didn’t think it was worth the risk of breaching the subject."

"You seem to have a great interest in history. I thought you were a xenopaleontologist, not a historian."

"I have developed a great many interests besides the specialisation of my field."

"As has become apparent. You seem to do more philosophising of humans’ place in history than dealing with your own emotions. You say that you feel you can neither trust your own species nor others. Who is left?"

“No one is left. But that’s always worked for me. Better safe than sorry."

“You seem to take that to an unhealthy extreme, and I want to help you break out of that."

“Nope, no, that’s not going to happen. I know what you’re going to say, Counselor Troi, that I bottle up my emotions too much and should try reaching out more. I have always repressed my emotions from other people, and that works for me. I can’t change, and I won't. I don’t want to. It simply isn’t possible."

“You are simply afraid, and I can understand that ―"

“Can you? Have you ever repressed your emotions? Have you ever put yourself through the difficult process of undoing that damage?"

“Then you agree that repressing your emotions isn't particularly healthy ―?"

"I know. I’ve always known. But people’s assumptions of me, their condescending talk, has only pushed me further into the closet... if you’ll forgive the expression."

"I will," said Troi. "But that’s good. Admitting that you have a problem is ―"

“The first step? I’ve heard that one, too."

Troi showed an irritated expression. “It is quite disconcerting to have a patient who presumes what I am going to say before I say it. Perhaps, if you are concerned about people judging you before they know you, you should return the courtesy."

“Why should I, if they won’t return the favour?"

“Perhaps you should try being the bigger person."

"Overrated."

Troi sighed. “If that doesn’t appeal to you, then at least give other people the chance to surprise you."

“Counselor, before I interrupted you just now, were you going to say that admitting to the problem is the first step?"

“Well, yes, but...”

“Well, there you go."

“But perhaps someone else would surprise you. Perhaps someone you already trust..."

What was she getting at? Was she reading her mind?

"Are you reading my mind right now?" Delia accused.

“Why, is there someone you trust?"

"If you read my mind, you know there is."

"Lieutenant Commander Data."

“See, you are still reading my mind."

“I don’t need my telepathic powers to know that you have at least taken an interest in him. I only have to listen. If Data is someone you truly value, then it couldn’t hurt to reach out to him."

Delia couldn’t really argue with Troi’s argument here, since it was something she had begun to wonder, herself. But she had doubts about Troi’s reasons for suggesting it.

“You have said you want me to reach to other humans, to trust them. But Data isn't a human; he’s an android. So it’s not exactly the same."

“Perhaps Data isn’t human, but he would certainly be a first step."

“I thought admitting the problem was the first step."

“A second step, then. Reaching out to him might open the door to trusting other humans later."

“I don’t think this will work...” Delia said. "I... have a bad habit of telling myself that no one likes me, that they disrespect me and insult me behind my back, that my emotions are nothing but weaknesses. Even with you, I’m doing it. Even if I try this, those thoughts are still there. I’m going to keep thinking them, and then I’m going to give up on whoever I reach out to. I know it’s irrational, and foolish, but I’m not going to be able to stop myself."

“Much that’s worth doing means facing uncertainties,” said Troi. “Would you give up studying a fossil because it was too hard?"

“That’s completely different,” said Delia. “Fossils don’t talk back. The don’t incite horrific emotions in me. I can study them and maintain my dignity."

“Do you believe emotions rob you of your dignity?” asked Troi with some concern.

“In my experience, then yes, generally."

“Have you been bullied for expressing emotion?"

“I’ve been bullied regardless of my expressing emotion. But emotions made me a worse target. Purging emotion, at least on the surface, protects me."

“Delia, expressing emotion is a natural thing. You can’t let bullies shame you out of feeling them. If you do that, you are giving them power over you. What you are doing is only causing harm to yourself ―"

“I can’t help it. This is my life now. Even if I know they’re wrong, I still carry their toxic words around in me. I tell myself they were wrong, and I know that. But it doesn’t change how it makes me feel. I tell myself they were lying, just to try to let go of the words, but I don't know they were lies, and I feel I’m lying to myself when I tell myself they are lies. I feel that most people I meet secretly harbour an instinctive and inevitable hatred for me. And the only way I have ever been able to respond to hatred, is by hating in return."

“It will take time,” said Troi. “You have to relearn how to think of yourself. You can start by learning someone else’s outside perspective of you. You might also try taking each situation by imagining the best and worst case scenario, and then by imagining the most likely scenario. Try putting your rational mind to each irrational problem, in order to predict it’s outcome from all sides."

The latter solution was, of course, one she had applied on a number of occasions. But not on every occasion; there were times when her irrational mind blocked out even the memory of how to rationally solve the problem

However, finding Data and asking him for his perspective was something new for her to try. She was tempted to go find him now, but she was still afraid. She didn’t know yet if talking to him was more like talking to a human or a holodeck image, but she didn’t want to take the risk of growing dependant on his company; it would only make it harder to say goodbye later.

She still remembered how she blushed in his presence. She knew that if she let it, she could grow dangerously fond of him in no time at all.

Deciding to shut down that humiliating thought, in case Troi was listening, she nevertheless began to worry how others might react if they ever found out what these feelings for Data truly were.

Robot.

Unbidden, the memory rose to the surface.

"Maybe I will," said Delia.

Her whole body tense, Delia stood and marched from the room.

She halted just a few hundred metres down the hall, in an attempt to compose herself. Then, with a few calming breaths, she trudged back to her quarters.

***

When Data showed up at Delia’s lab the following day at about 1400 hours, Delia was shocked to see him stroll back into her life so suddenly.

She was re-examining the Irillium rock she had brought from the Saratoga when he arrived, but now she turned from it to give him her full attention as she reminded herself that of course he was here, she couldn’t very well avoid him while they shared the same ship together. 

"Data, what are you doing here?" she asked him.

"I am not interrupting?"

"Well, a bit, but it’s not a problem. I’m just surprised to see you here. Is there something you need?"

"Counselor Troi suggested I come. She was concerned for your well-being and thought perhaps I could help."

Troi. Of course she did, Delia sighed.

"If this is personal, then perhaps it should wait until after work? Were you really concerned about me?"

"Of course,” said Data, although which question he was answering, she didn’t know. “The counselor emphasised to me that you were carrying some heavy baggage ―"

Delia laughed. “She didn’t mean it literally, Data."

“I am aware of that,” said Data. “However, she did leave me with the urgent impression that you were suffering..."

She looked up into his eyes, sincerely, amazed by the concern he appeared to feel for her.

“I’m fine, Data,” said Delia, smiling. "I’m not suffering."

“Counselor Troi would seem to disagree."

“Yes, she would, but she’s wrong. She doesn’t know me ―"

“But she is an empath,” said Data, “and understands human emotion."

Delia hesitated, considering this. Eventually, she said, “I would know. If that was happening to me... I would know."

“Delia, the last time we met, you insisted that I should stay with you in the lab in order to backup your data, although I had other pressing duties to attend to. Should not you also spare me a little time?"

"Alright. Let me just inform my superior."

Data waited while Delia requested permission. She was granted 10 minutes, and gratefully took Data out into the hallway to talk.

"Alright, Data. Did you need to tell me anything particularly pressing? Or is this simply a chat?"

"You seem agitated. Is there anything I can do to ease your discomfort?"

"No, just…"

She sighed. It was hard to stay mad at Data. No doubt that's what Troi was counting on. She would definitely be having a chat with Troi later…

"If you want to talk, let's talk," said Delia.

"According to Counselor Troi, you have been avoiding social interaction, which is important for healthy cognitive functioning of the human brain, as well as for emotional regulation."

"I can regulate my emotions just fine, Data."

"And your cognitive functioning?"

"There is nothing wrong with it."

"The counselor suggested you might be resistant to the idea."

“Are you taking orders for the counselor now?"

“No,” said Data, with an oddly endearing inflection of surprise in his voice, “the counselor has no authority in that area. I was simply concerned for you."

“Concerned is perhaps too emotional a word for an android,” said Delia. “I don’t suppose you are here to offer me friendship, are you?"

“If you would like to be friends, I would certainly not turn you down. I simply wish to talk."

“Well, we don’t have much time now," said Delia. “So I don’t know what you plan to accomplish by pulling me aside."

“Then another time,” said Data.

“In your quarters."

“Would not it be better to meet in a public place, such as Ten Forward?"

“I don’t want to run into my work colleagues there. I don’t wish to make friends with them, and I’m worried they might still force the issue."

“Then I will defend you."

Delia grinned at the suggestion; she couldn’t help it.

"Although, I do not understand why you do not wish to make friends,” added Data. "I have many human friends."

"Why?"

Data gave Delia that same confused look again. She realised now, looking into Data’s eyes, that they weren’t the green of Earth's ancient seas, but yellow like pools of sulfur. She couldn't imagine how she hadn't seen it before. Perhaps, if she gave in to becoming Data’s friend, it would offer her a good opportunity to study him up close. 

Certainly, she knew she wanted to, for more reasons than personal curiosity.

"Why do I… have friends?" replied Data.

"Why… are they friends with you? In my experience…"

Data raised his eyebrows, waiting expectantly for her to finish her sentence. For a moment, he looked downright human.

"Yes?" Data prompted when her sentence remained unfinished.

"Data," said Delia. "Have you ever, even mistakenly, been called a robot?"

"Yes," he said.

"So was I."

"But you are a human," said Data.

"Yes, I know. But I have not often been seen that way. I am different, I think differently, than other humans. They made assumptions about me; that I’m stupid, that I’m cold. They considered my lack of expression to be evidence of my lack of humanity. As far as I’m concerned, people calling you a robot reflects a similar disrespect. They think robots we are empty, devoid of emotions and of meaning; they are calling you less important and worthy of respect than they are; they believe emotion to be the centre of their humanity, and that anyone who doesn’t feel or express exactly as they do, is a less valuable or less fulfilled. In that, they are wrong."

"My friends are not like that," said Data.

"Maybe. All I know is, in my experience, they usually are."

"So you feel that friends are not worth having at all," said Data.

"I don't trust, nor like, anyone well enough to take the risk. It just isn't worth it."

"And am I not worth the risk?" asked Data.

Delia hesitated. 

"I haven't decided yet."

"Then if I am," said Data, "I would be succeeding where ordinary humans have not."

"Perhaps," said Delia.

"Then there is hope," said Data.

"Hope, maybe," said Delia. "I never had much faith in it, personally. I am forever the skeptic. I may find fascination in the varieties and forms life can take in the universe, but when it comes to my own life, I don't easily love or trust even those of my own species. I don't want friends, partners, children. I don't relate to my own kind; I am an outsider. Even my own field, the thing I’ve devoted my life to, isn't as properly respected by my own people as it should be."

"If paleontology is considered so unimportant, then why do you consider it worth your life?"

"Because it isn’t unimportant, not to me. Life has many forms. Even before we trekked out to the stars and discovered life on other planets, our own Earth was discovered to have a variety of life forms. Other planets have been found to have prehistories even more ancient still. I am in love with life, with my own, with life different from mine, with life both ancient and modern, with life both sentient and animal. I don't want to die, Data; in fact, I want to live a very long life. But if I have to die, I at least want it to mean something. I want to die to preserve something precious, like undiscovered life."

"That is why you asked me to download all of your data onto my memory banks," said Data. "As an attempt to continue your work through me."

"I can't ask you to do anything you are not programmed to do. I can't ask you to carry on my work, or share my passion. I just want to know if I do die before my time, my work lives on through you. Don’t let it die with me; pass it on."

"So, in a way, you are using my extended life span and my special abilities to give your work permanence than your limited human life."

She felt the distinct impression that he was judging her.

"Don’t look at me like that, Data. I do appreciate the value of a human life, and not only my own. Nurturing the young is not in me, but his work is like my child, and I would do anything to ensure its survival, even if I have to sacrifice my own life."

"Hopefully it will not come to that," said Data.

"I hope not, certainly not while I’m aboard the Enterprise," said Delia. "I have important work yet to do."

"The paleontological study on Rigel IV," said Data.

"Yes," said Delia. "If I’m right, we could gain new insight into the pervasiveness of life on that planet. It could put into perspective how life on Rigel ended. That has immense importance, and not just to me. If I can prove it, I can provide a new perspective on such an otherwise metropolitan planet. Perhaps the scientific community on Rigel IV might even dedicate more resources to the study of the planet’s prehistory.

"Prehistory should be just as important to the scientific community as history; It teaches us just as much about ourselves and others as history does. It’s just the history of non-sentient lifeforms. It has as much power to connect us as history has. I have a need to know the nature of my existence, and of others’ existences. But my heart, my passion, is directed, less at who people are than what they are. If you're serious about being my friend, I need you to understand my need to explore that."

"I understand."

Ultimately, Data agreed to meet Delia in his quarters that night at 20:00 hours. He left her, and she returned to the laboratory.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia gets to know Data and starts to open up to him.

Before long, Data and Delia began to spend more time together as friends, visiting each others' quarters and sharing their interests with each other.

When Data visited Delia’s quarters, she showed him sketches she had done in service of her work as a paleontologist. These included artistic depictions of animals she had discovered through studying the fossil record on a good number of planets.

"Your art is very good," said Data, when Delia showed him her artist’s impressions of a range of creatures from the Raquian era on Delta IV. "It contains many fine details."

"Since my drawing abilities are a particular advantage in my field, I’ve spent a long time training them up. I’ve surprised myself with how capable I was at drawing. And I need to be very detailed in my studies, in order to accurately depict the creatures."

When Delia visited Data’s quarters, she was equally impressed to hear Data play classical pieces on the violin for her.

"It’s beautiful," said Delia.

He looked perplexed. "No one has ever called my playing beautiful before," said Data. "Merely that it is technically proficient."

"I don't see the difference."

"You do not? It is usual that humans comment on my passionless performance."

“I don’t see it,” said Delia. "Perhaps they weren’t particularly moved by your playing, but the music itself is still beautiful to me. Honestly, I don't know what they expected, seeing as you are an android."

"I am an android, but I would very much like to be human."

"That’s true. But aren't you the one always saying you don't have emotions?"

"I have only mentioned it to you once."

Now that she thought about it, she was right...

"And to other people?" she asked.

"In total, I have mentioned it on 11 occasions."

"That’s not a lot."

"Is it not?"

"No. I suppose, subjectively, I felt you had said it more, when really it was me thinking about it."

“Do you do that a lot?"

“No you mention it, I think I must."

“Does it bother you?"

Delia hesitated. “I don’t think it bothers me...” she said. “I just have to remind myself sometimes. Because I know you’re not human, but you often seem human..."

Data looked back her, appearing amazed. But before he could say anything, she continued, “But you know, maybe it’s a matter of perspective, the way you play. Humans play music subjectively, as they often think subjectively. Maybe you could try that. Try to form your own opinion about the piece you’re playing and think of it while you play. Maybe others will change their mind about your playing then," said Delia. "Either way, I don't think the music changes. I still think it's beautiful."

"If I were to compose my own piece, do you imagine it could be beautiful?"

"I don't know. Depends on the piece. Maybe you should try it sometime."

"Will you help me?"

"Of course. I don't know much about composition, but I could try."

After they had spent enough time together as friends, Data decided to invite Delia down to Ten Forward. After some persuasion, she agreed to join him there.

They sat together at the bar and were served by a bartender. Data asked what she would like.

"What do they serve here?" she asked.

"Ten Forward provides a wide range of synthehol products," began Data. "I could provide you a full list of drinks served here, if you would like."

"Thank you, Data. However, for the time being," she turned to the bartender, "do you have any recommendations?”

"Well, I hear the synthale is quite popular."

"Fine, I’ll have that."

Data ordered two. The bartender poured two glasses of blue ale.

Taking up their drinks, Data and Delia turned on their stools to survey the room.

"I often come here to observe human interactions," said Data.

"Ever see anything interesting?" asked Delia.

"Humans are endlessly fascinating creatures," said Data. "I can usually find something to engage my attention. There are so many nuances and quirks in their behaviour, that I am constantly learning."

"Never a dull moment, eh?"

"That would be accurate," said Data.

"I’m always studying them, too,” said Delia. "I never really understood them, especially when I was little. And it seemed the feeling was mutual, since they never let me forget how different I apparently was. I hated them for that. When I grew older, though, even though that anger never truly faded completely, I started to wonder why they treated me the way they did. I started to realise that if I fit in, I could chase my dreams more easily. I started to grow up and learned how to talk to people. And I thought that if I could only understand what went wrong before, I could change. But when I learned that the reason for my isolation was prejudice against what they thought I was, I just retreated again."

“You are not suggesting that they really thought you were a robot?"

“Worse than that,” said Delia. “They called me a freak because they literally thought that I was the result of scientific manipulation. They called me robot because they thought I had become an emotionless monster."

“They thought you were an Augment?"

Delia gave a small nod. “You’d be amazed what hate and fear can do, even after all this time. I had to prove myself worthy to get where I am. It’s amazing that I didn’t turn my back on science after what I learned. But if anything, it only made me more determined to become a scientist."

“But you became a paleontologist, not a geneticist," said Data.

"I didn’t want to play god with nature,” said Delia. “Instead, I wanted to learn the nature of nature. If I was to strike back at the idea of my being unnatural, like most of the insults directed at me implied, I wanted to prove the true diversity of nature. I wanted to prove that I was far from the strangest thing in nature.

"I study ancient life forms to learn my place in the world, to learn how diverse life is, to know how I’m different and how I’m not; but when I observe humans in my own time, I study how they interact, which shows me how I should interact with others. There is a form of life that covers every kind of difference that can be imagined; even when I look at humans now, I see diversity. But I am still an outsider to it all."

"I, too, am an outsider. At least you have the benefit of having your own race of people," said Data. "It is my understanding that humans have often searched for personal meaning inside of more concrete goals. It is littered throughout human traditional stories, both actual and fictional."

“Such as going on quests?" said Delia.

“That is correct,” said Data. “Perhaps your field of study acts for you in a similar fashion."

“That is an interesting idea, Data..." said Delia. "Say, are you by any chance familiar with the tradition of proposing toasts, Data?"

"A toast: A human tradition in which a drink is taken as an expression of honour or goodwill. The term may refer to a person, event or concept which is celebrated by the proposal of the toast. Once the subject of the toast is declared, everyone present raises their glasses, sometimes clinking them against each other, before taking a drink."

"That’s right," said Delia.

"It began in the 17th Century," continued Data, and Delia, rather than interrupting, merely smiled at his earnestness, “when according to some stories, the term ‘toast’ refers to a custom of flavouring drinks with spiced toast. It was said that the word originated from a lady in whose honour the drink was proposed, her name being seen as figuratively flavouring the drink."

It was at this moment that Data turned to Delia as realisation dawned on his face. “Ah. Did you plan to propose a toast?"

“That was my intention, yes,” she replied. "To the diversity of life in the universe, right down to you and me."

Data smiled, and then clinked his glass against Delia’s. He began to drink, and Delia soon followed suit.

Delia turned again from Data to look at the room, and scanned over the groups of people that were clustered at tables. At one table, a pair of women sat talking. Delia pointed them out to Data, and made some deductions.

"They’re friends. This is suggested by the distance they are sitting apart from each other, and the level of warmth in their expression when they look at each other. One is in their standard-issue uniform, so probably recently off-duty. She has an erect posture, denoting discipline but not discomfort. We can tell by the colour of her uniform and the pips on her collar her rank and department, but her friend, who holds herself more loosely and isn't wearing a uniform, is less clear-cut. It is apparent in every particular that this friend is more relaxed, in her posture and appearance, but also in her choice of pasta rather than salad as is her companion's choice. This is a woman who doesn’t have as strict a lifestyle as her friend, making it less likely that she’s in the service. However, her being here does suggest that she has some other connection to Starfleet. That necklace around her neck, as well as that ring on her finger, both bear the symbol, which confirms it. But her ring appears a bit tight on her finger, suggesting a sentimental attachment. So, a long-term connection. Perhaps, like me, she is being carried to some other destination. Or she had boarded the Enterprise for a particular reason..."

"Very good deductive reasoning," said Data. "Are you by any chance a fan of Sherlock Holmes?"

"I love Sherlock Holmes."

"'Love'?" repeated Data, looking perplexed.

“No, no, I don’t mean love..." said Delia, blushing, “simply that I’m a big fan."

"I see," said Data. "I also ― love ― Sherlock Holmes," he said, in a bizarre copy of her emphasised words.

She blushed harder.

"Why are you blushing?" asked Data.

"I’m not."

"That is clearly a false statement,” he said. “After the intelligence you just displayed, can you really be ignorant of it?"

Delia shook her head, caught out. For a moment, she had forgotten she was talking to an android.

"Sorry, Data, I know. I just didn't want to admit I was embarrassed. About the misunderstanding."

“I understand,” said Data.

"Well, that's… good, then."

At that moment, Delia spotted a man approaching them. He wore a red Command shirt with three pips on the collar, a stylish beard, and a suave smile, and she didn’t trust him.

"Data, who’s this young thing? Won’t you introduce us?"

"Commander Riker, this is a guest from the USS Saratoga, Dr Delia Hardeck."

"Delia, huh?" he said.

Delia shifted, uncomfortable. "I’m hardly a ‘young thing’," said Delia, leveling him with a hard gaze. "I’m 30."

"30, what’s 30?” flirted Riker. “It’s nothing."

Delia automatically grasped Data’s hand, panicking a little on the inside from the threat of his flirting. Riker looked between the two of them at this, and stepped back out of her space.

Data, missing this exchange, replied, "It is not 'nothing'. For a human, 30 years is a significant amount of time."

A smile cracked on Delia’s face as she glanced over at Data.

When her gaze returned to Commander Riker, he had straightened up, his expression slightly more controlled.

Good, thought Delia, he got the message.

Then he smiled between them, his eyes sparkling mischievously. Delia watched as Data attempted to process what was happening, and smiled again at him. As long as Riker didn’t crack on to her, she was fine with him thinking she liked Data. Whatever it might mean for her reputation.

"Well, Mr Data, I’m happy for you. Delia seems a remarkable woman."

Data's brows furrowed, his head shifting. His eyes were curious, confused. Data knew an implication was being made, but he didn't know what it was.

"Yes, Commander. Quite remarkable."

"Of course," smirked Riker, and left.

Data looked at Delia, confused. "You really meant that, didn’t you?" said Delia.

"Indeed," said Data.

"But you didn’t catch the implication?"

“I did detect an usual emphasis in Riker’s words. But I do not understand what it meant."

"Commander Riker just tried to hit on me, to flirt with me. But when I touched your hand, he assumed you and I were in an intimate relationship and backed off."

"I see. He perceived me as some sort of rival, and gave you up to me. But I am not. I should straighten out this misunderstanding―"

Delia touched his wrist, and he paused in his movement. "Please don't do that, Data."

"Why not?” he ask. "Do you wish to enter a relationship with me?"

Delia paused, considering. She would be lying if she said she wasn't tempted. And it was entirely possible that others were about to believe it. But even so, there was still too much fear in her to say yes. 

Yet, Commander Riker had not seemed judgemental. In fact, he had appeared to approve of the relationship.

“I don’t think it would be prudent,” she answered, “considering I won’t be here for the long term. But if it would stop him from pursuing me, let him think what he wants."

"Do you not find him attractive?"

"Frankly, no. He was quite… domineering. I can’t men like that. I’m sure, he’d have put a leg up if these seats weren’t so high."

"What do you mean by, ‘put a leg up’?"

"Exactly how it sounds. I noticed at some point during my teenage years that men often prop one leg up on something as a gesture of dominance. In this case, I think it may also have had a sexual suggestion."

"Now that you mention it, I have often observed Commander Riker ‘putting a leg up'," said Data. “Although, it is strange to imagine a sexual connotation in any of the situations I have seen."

"Not all situations are like that, I think. But it has been known. Either way, it makes me feel quite threatened," said Delia.

"Delia, I have worked with Commander Riker for years, and I have never known him to threaten anyone without due cause. I am sure he would do nothing against you."

"I’m sure you're right, Data. But I still feel that way. And I still have no interest in him. 

"Although he made me uneasy, I don't think he’s a bad man. Despite believing we were in a relationship, he backed down, even seemed to approve. So though I can't imagine being friends with him, I see that at least he respects you. So I respect him. But an irrational part of my mind is still wary, nevertheless."

"Why couldn’t you be friends with him?" asked Data.

"Humans approach relationships, of any kind, differently. Some humans tend towards people who share similarities with themselves; others prefer people who are quite different to themselves. I am the former. Although I could theoretically become friends with Commander Riker, it would take longer and require far more effort to even like him."

"So because it requires more effort, you consider it not worth doing?"

"No," said Delia. "It is just that I find more comfort in relationships with people I am more compatible with, those who I more deeply and easily connect with."

"Your field of study is life forms on other planets, some of which are vastly different to you."

"Yes, but it's far different to study something in a lab than to try to personally connect with them. I find them fascinating, that's all."

"Do you find me merely fascinating?" asked Data.

"No," said Delia, "I feel both fascinated by you and connected to you. From a certain standpoint, I suppose I might come to feel fascinated by Riker, but having had such a close encounter with him, my emotion of distaste overpowers that potential."

"Do you believe we are… compatible?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to be my friend, then? Or perhaps―"

"Friend is fine," said Delia.

"Tell me more about your work," said Data, "You said earlier that your field, paleontology, was not properly respected by Starfleet. But Starfleet has a number of sciences devoted to the study of the past. Take archeology, for example. Archeology studies ancient cultures of the past, which provides insights into the current inhabitants of those planets, their cultures, and their beliefs. Is this not similar to what your field studies?"

"There’s a difference," said Delia, "between archeology and paleontology. Archeology is primarily the study of written history, of sentient beings. Paleontology is the study of all types of life forms, whether sentient or not, from times earlier than written history. As such, it often involves looking far deeper in the past than archeology typically does. Take, for example, my study of microscopic life on Rigel IV. The known timeline of events on that planet does not currently include any life on the planet during the time period in which me and my colleagues have recently discovered life in."

"Ah, yes, I recall that from my perusal of your information. That was a discovery initially spotted by one of your colleagues on the Saratoga. He brought it to your Head of Geology, Dr Coon, who brought it to you. Upon examining the rock, you discovered it contained life, and you are now travelling to Rigel IV to conduct further researches in the area the rock was found."

"That’s right," said Delia. "The rock in question was taken from a deposit of Irillium rock, which is a material substance that has also been used in a number of objects, including ones made by Starfleet. It is also the name of a period in Rigel IV’s prehistory where the mineral was formed in such vast quantities that the entire period was named after it. It was previously believed that the conditions on the surface was too hostile to life for anything to live at this late period, but this new discovery proves that theory wrong. My hypothesis is that Irillium was a condition of this creature’s life, that rather than finding it toxic, they found it essential.

"A new form of life. That is, after all, what Starfleet exists for. I am currently studying the rock in an attempt both to prove this hypothesis, and to figure out how it could be true."

"Are you making any progress?"

"I will, of course, invite you down to the lab if I discover anything significant. I didn't want to invite you down before I was ready. At the moment, I’m simply amassing data; I haven't yet figured out what any of it means yet."

"Considering that your intention is to use me to protect what is to you critical to the purpose of your life, you may call upon me as often as you wish," said Data.

"I know, but…" 

"But?"

Delia was afraid to answer. But this was Data, and he was innocent. He only had a wish to learn, to observe, to understand. There seemed to be no judgement in it. Unlike any scientist she’d ever known, Data really was completely objective. It was impossible to deny him any explanation.

"I was… afraid, what it would do to me."

"Afraid? Doctor, are you afraid of me?"

"No, no, not of you, never of you…"

"Then what?"

"How you… make me feel."

"How I… make you feel," he said. "How do I make you feel?"

"Data, you… I admire your curiosity, your constant striving for understanding. I adore your kindness, and your intelligence. Even though I don’t know much more about technology than the average person, I am fascinated with your body, how you work, why you look the way you do, the details that went into you. I care what happens to you, the quality of your life, your… perhaps not happiness, since androids don't experience emotions, but at least your fulfilment."

"I fail to see how any of this could be a bad thing."

"Data, my interest in you isn't purely intellectual, although I wish it was. There’s emotion behind it. I’m ashamed of where those emotions could lead."

"Have you talked to Counselor Troi about it?"

"No, and I don’t plan to."

"Perhaps you should. I have heard that talking through your issues ―"

"I know. But I don't trust Troi. I don't trust anyone with my secrets. Except perhaps you, Data."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't believe anyone else would understand."

"Delia, as an android, I am perhaps the least likely person to understand how you are feeling."

"Perhaps. But at least you won’t judge me for it. Troi has good intentions, but it is her job to listen to my problems. I don't think any human, or even Betazoid, is capable of relating to me. Therefore, there will always be judgement. But you, who is incapable of emotion, is also incapable of thinking any less of me."

“I do not think that Counselor Troi would judge you."

“Not openly, perhaps. But privately, I think, my mind would be hard for her to grasp. She’s not like me, Data, so I can’t..."

“Delia,” said Data. “I fail to see how I am any different, and yet you are reaching out to me."

“You’re different, Data. I don’t know why, but I’m simply... drawn to you. I want to talk to you in a way I’ve never wanted to talk to anyone."

“Then talk,” said Data.

Delia took a breath, steeling herself, hesitating. But eventually, she began to talk to Data about all the things she had ever wanted to say but never had. 

There was a part of her, even as she spoke, that was wary of everything she was saying and exactly where she was. She was even conscious of the bartender cleaning off a glass while she eyed her. But she kept her words strictly only to those subjects she could stand to be heard, by Data or anyone else.

She still kept the rest of her heart locked up tight. Just in case.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Troi has a session with Delia, Delia has a conversation, and Barclay talks to Delia about their similar social problems.

"Data tells me you think I will judge you for anything you say in here."

Of course he did, Delia thought with a sigh. She should have seen this coming; she had learned early on that appearances are deceiving. She should’ve known from the start that he would betray her confidence.

"Because you will,” replied Delia. "You may not say it, or express it, but you will." Maybe even Data. How much had she gotten wrong about him?

"I had no idea you were a telepath," said Troi. A bad pass at humour.

"That isn't funny, Counselor. Look, you and I both know that the only reason I’m here in the first place is because you think there's something wrong with me, with the way I live my life. Just like all the rest of them."

"Let’s talk about that."

Delia sighed and sank back onto Troi’s couch. "You know, if I was telepathic, that’d be easier. No need to… talk."

"Autistic people can go through fluctuating states, of verbal, semi-verbal, and non-verbal. That much is true. Are you having trouble with that now?"

“Data told you,” said Delia.

“Yes, and you didn’t,” said Troi. “How do you expect me to help you if you won’t tell me anything?"

“I don’t,” said Delia. “You forced me to come here, remember."

“You are welcome to leave at any time."

“Yes, and as soon as do, you go straight to Picard to reveal my secrets."

“Anything you say in here will be kept in the strictest confidence."

“And anything I said or thought before this arrangement was made is open season."

“You were pretty forthcoming to Data, even without the safety of the counseling session,” said Troi. “You won’t be giving me any more power than you’ve already given me to just talk."

Delia sighed. “Yes, there have been times, especially as a child, when a mental block on being verbal has occurred. These verbal levels tends to fluctuate… sometimes… on how much I trust someone."

"Well then, I suppose that means you trust me, at least a little, since you’re talking to me now," said Troi. "But I’ve heard, you’ve been very talkative with Data."

"I trust Data."

"How about we discuss your issue of trust? What is it about Data that you trust so much? After all, he is an artificial life form, unable to relate to you like a human can."

“He and I have more in common than any human...” said Delia, looking away to her left. "I..."

“You appear to be less angry this session,” observed Troi.

“As if you can’t sense that without observing,” said Delia, but there was no real heat in the words.

"It is true, I can sense that from you. What I sense right now is sadness. Why are you sad?"

"As if you don’t know."

“Tell me anyway."

“Data... He told you. What I said. He... he’s nothing but your spy, isn’t he? You have him spying on me, giving you the cheat codes so that you can ‘save’ me. You took advantage of our connection... And he went along, and I fell for it."

“Delia, look at me."

Delia flashed her eyes up at Troi before looking down again.

“Look at me."

This time Delia forced her eyes up to keep Troi’s gaze.

"I do not operate like that. I certainly didn’t ask Data to spy on you for me. I would never want to violate your privacy. In truth, Data told me very little of whatever you discussed. But he was worried ―"

“Androids don’t worry."

“This one does,” said Troi. “Whether it is a result of his algorithms or whether it is something else is a mystery to me. But he does care about you, Delia."

Delia wanted to deny it, feeling an undercurrent of anger to her sadness, but she couldn’t; she didn’t know, either.

"You knew… you must have known…" muttered Delia.

"Known what?"

"That I… how I felt about him…"

"You opened up to him, and that scared you. You must’ve been terrified that he’d do exactly what he did: tell someone. And now you’re feeling lost and betrayed..."

“Well, if you know me so well, tell me what do I do about it?” asked Delia.

“That’s up to you,” said Troi. “What do you want to do?"

“Not trust you,” said Delia, glaring at her. “You are nothing but a charlatan, pretending to know me, pretending to know what I think. You say Data can’t relate to me like a human can... as though that makes him something lesser... you think because he has no emotions he can’t relate or understand... that he's less important, just because he thinks differently, because he doesn't live up to your ideal of what a person should be. In that, you’re wrong. And I shouldn’t have to sit here listening to you disrespect the both of us."

"Delia, I can assure you that I have a great deal of respect for Lieutenant Commander Data. I place a great deal of honour on his person, despite ―"

"Despite," said Delia. "That’s what it's all about, isn't it? Despite. Like emotions are the great elevator, like they make you superior to other life forms."

"Delia, you are a xenopalaeontologist, so you must be aware that most life forms have emotions. It’s how they survive, it's how they ―"

"I’m a scientist, I know the theory. And it's true, many do. But not all do. Simple-minded animals, for instance, don’t. And of course, social animals display more emotions than solitary ones. There is a great diversity of the kinds of emotions animals do or don’t display, based on survival techniques and evolution. There is evidence of this not only in prehistory, but throughout not only Earth but a variety ―"

"Alright," said Troi. "Let’s move away from the science ―"

"Because you know I’m right―"

"And focus more on your personal history. You mentioned that emotions are a survival instinct, and yet you have displayed disgust towards them. I want to talk about how you came by that belief. Take me back to where you think this all started."

“Oh, well I suppose if I have to... it started in school. I had many bullies throughout my childhood. I moved from place to place, so I never stayed anywhere for long. I never minded it, because I never grew particularly close to anyone in any of the places I stayed. I don't think I could imagine settling anywhere; it’d just be too boring."

"You might feel more secure, though. Is it possible that you never learned to connect with or trust any of the people around you?"

“It’s more than possible,” said Delia. “That’s absolutely it. I never really minded it. But I know I have a problem, and I know it’s irrational."

“If you know it’s irrational, that’s a step in the right direction,” said Troi.

“But it isn’t enough,” said Delia. “It never has been, knowing. I’ve known for years. The problem is I’m a coward. I hate myself. I’m terrified of being misunderstood... but I’ve always been misunderstood. So it makes me angry. Furious. Yes, that’s it..."

Troi looked curiously at Delia, like she was a curious puzzle, or a delicate china doll. Delia didn’t much like the look. “But you don’t feel Data misunderstands you?” she asked at last.

“How can he? He... just feels... familiar to me. Similar to me. He’s an outsider, he’s... a bit strange. A bit different. He doesn’t understand what it is to be human. And neither do I. 

"I don’t mean to blame you, or anyone else, for that. But I can’t help it. I have one eye fixated on the past. I can’t help but to judge everyone around me by it."

“But not Data."

“Data’s an android. He’s not human so, strangely, my prejudice doesn’t extend to him."

“You are prejudiced against humans?” asked Troi. “But I’m not human, I’m a Betazoid. Yet your prejudice seems to extend to me, too."

“It isn’t exactly a prejudice. I don’t hate humans, or Betazoids. In fact, I find both species fascinating, at least from a distance."

“But when you are close up, you risk re-experiencing the trauma from your past,” said Troi. “You fail to remain objective, which is your whole objective as a scientist."

Delia was not about to deny it.

“So Data has become your own impersonal companion, the one person who makes you feel safe, who let’s you experience life at a distance. Perhaps he even makes you feel less lonely."

“Let’s not go nuts,” said Delia. "I was never lonely. After enough time, I stopped feeling lonely."

“If that were true, I doubt you would’ve reached out at all. I think you’ve merely learned to bury your feelings. You need to relearn how to process and release them again. After so many years keeping them buried, this will be a long process that will need to continue past your time aboard Enterprise. You will need to keep up counseling on other ships."

“I can’t promise you anything."

“At the very least, I can start you on this journey. But it will be up to you to continue it. If you don’t... well, at least you will have some tools to manage your problem. Let’s first return to your personal history, as a starting point. Tell me more about your childhood."

"My childhood was full of hopelessness. My home was a sanctuary for me, yet even there I faced demands. My mother often made assurances that she would always be supportive of me, and sometimes she was. But she was also strict and unforgiving, and I hated the contradiction. She made demands of me that were impossible, then criticised me when I failed to live up to them. Sometimes she lost her temper. She made me fearful of her, she made me doubt my own abilities and judgement. Then when I went to school, I got it even worse because the children only saw a vacant robot when they looked at me.

"Each school I went to, there was always at least one person who singled me out. If I wasn't stupid, I was cold, or I was arrogant. None of it was true, but no one ever listened to me. Talk about arrogance! I began hating them; not just my bullies, but those who seemed to agree with them, which seemed to be everyone. My thoughts became consumed in these thoughts, and it was only made worse when, against my own will, I began to internalise these toxic things they said about me. That I was, to quote, 'a cold robot', or else I was a freak of nature. They did everything they could to dehumanise me. And I say ‘dehumanise’ because it is the only word in the English language strong enough to describe it, not because I centre humans as a supreme species in the universe."

"I do not believe humans believe they are supreme beings anymore."

"That’s because humans lie, to themselves as well as to you. They have done it throughout history. They seem incapable of doing anything else."

"You speak as though you're not one of them."

"I… know I technically am. But I don’t feel like one."

"You have been taught that, your whole life. You have to start to believe in your own humanity. I understand that you have reached out to Data, and you have learned to trust him. But I believe you must now reach out to a fellow human. Find another person to relate to."

"I can’t do that,” said Delia. "There’s no one like that. And even if there is... it’s impossible."

“I don’t believe that, and I don’t think you do, either," said Troi. “According to you, humans are experts at lying to themselves. Is that what you’re doing?"

"No. I’m not a fool."

"So you’re the sole unfoolish human in existence? I want you to think about what you’re saying about yourself and humanity when you say that."

Delia glared up at Troi. "I know full well that I’m not perfect or infallible. I simply swore to myself I wouldn’t be made a fool of again. I’ve never felt quite human. I’ve never been at home in my own race, in my own culture."

"Is that true?" said Troi. "Or is that simply the lie the bullies in your past have taught you?"

Delia glanced down in thought. "Of course it's what they taught me. It doesn't mean it isn't true."

“Then they have already made a fool of you."

"How could I not hate them back, after they hated me so much just for being different? But no one’s done that to me in years, yet the hate remains." 

She glanced up again, her gaze now softened, reflective. 

"I can’t get rid of it. It’s like a voice inside my head. The voice of my past. I have made progress since those days, changed myself for the better. But it's like building half a house, and then stopping, leaving it unfinished. I can’t go on. I’m frozen. In fear, in anger, I just can’t move past it."

"Perhaps you should open yourself to other emotions. Like love, or joy."

"You haven't told me anything I haven't thought of before. I just can't."

"Why not?"

"I’m… afraid of what it will do to me."

"Everyone feels fear," said Troi. "But it’s okay to let go of it sometimes, fight for your own happiness. You might even find you’re better for it."

"It isn’t so easy. It feels more like a fight than letting go. Either way, it doesn’t ever seem to make a difference," Delia said. “I can overcome just about any other fear but this one. But just when I think I might break through the wall, I always end up pushing people away in anger. I don’t even bother trying anymore."

“Then perhaps it’s time you learned to reach out again. You don’t have to rush into anything. You could take it one step at a time."

“I suppose you plan to help me out?” said Delia. “You know, I always knew I needed help, but I could never ask for it. My parents always taught me, in their own way, never to ask for help, that all it got you was criticism and rejection. They always denied my problems and never acknowledged them. I kinda got stuck into the habit."

“Well, now seems as good a time as any to break it. Your parents aren’t here, you’re on a starship full of people, and some of us are here to help you."

“No, I don’t think so. I’d better not...” said Delia, crossing her legs, and then crossing her arms.

“I can see that wall you talked about,” said Troi.

“I bet,” answered Delia.

“Look, I’m not suggesting that you should get a wingman and jump right in. You could simply work your way up, starting from basic greetings and working towards the establishing of bonds."

"Counselor...” began Delia. “Are you suggesting flirting lessons?" Her crossed arms loosened, her elbows dropping. She snapped them back in place a moment later.

“It appears as though at least some part of you is open to the idea."

“I don’t want to be open to it. I’m fine the way I am."

“Delia, I want to get to the woman that lay behind the walls you’ve put in place to shut the world out ―”

“I bet you do ―"

"― I just know that if you allow yourself to become that woman again, you’d find yourself more fulfilled and happy ―"

“And what would you know about it?” Delia snapped. “I’m like this way for a reason ―"

“Yes, because you were betrayed by the people in your life that should’ve been there for you. But not everyone’s like that. You can learn to move on ―"

“Move on," said Delia. Her brow were knit, her arms pressed tightly together.

"I only meant that it is okay to feel other emotions. I think you might find they can surprise you. They might give you pleasure, and not just pain. Emotions aren't inherently painful."

"I know that," said Delia. "I have experienced that. But I don't want to become… weak again. I would do anything not to feel like that."

"Weak how?"

"Just… weak. Useless. Pathetic. Emotional."

"Delia, emotions don't make you weak. They make you human."

"Same thing."

"You really don't want to be human?"

"No, I don't."

"Why not?"

"Because… humans are… judgemental. Full of hate. Full of themselves. Destructive."

"That’s just in your experience. They can be more."

"Aren’t our experiences what make us up? I know they can be more. But the good can’t outweigh the bad. Not even now, in this century, with all of our leaps forward. I am proud that humanity has come this far. But it still isn't enough. There are some things we haven't overcome. We still retain lessons from our forefathers, about rejecting what we can't understand. I have dedicated my life to scientific discovery, objectivity, and reasoning. It’s something I truly believe in. It’s the best way I can think of to combat what I still think of as a problem in our society, of overcoming our biases."

"But you study palaeontology, not psychology. What you do ―"

"Doesn’t combat the problems of our society, no. I have learned to place my hopes, not in my race, not in other races, but the diversity of life as a whole. I chose to learn, not just about my race, its history, its beginnings, but about the beginnings and evolution of all life. I try to learn from these researches how life operates, how it evolves, and why it develops the way it does. Only by examining the full spectrum of life do I hope to understand our similarities, our differences, and how each of us makes sense of the world."

"That's very… open-minded of you," said Troi. "If only you could take your own insights on board into your personal life. I would think, as a scientist, you would want to understand life forms, even if it’s your own species, on their own terms."

"I do have some interest in humanity’s evolution, of course," said Delia. “From a certain distance. But I also carry too much pain to be truly objective about them. Perhaps a substitute would serve me better, at least to start. It was you, I believe, who suggested working up to it. If I study Data ―"

“Data is not a human being, he is an android. He knows little more about humanity than you do ―"

“Exactly. He's perfect. Two outsiders looking in on humanity. We could teach each other."

"He is, of course, more perfectly objective than you. If that's truly what you believe in achieving, perhaps you could ask for his advice in seeing, as you said, the ‘full spectrum of life’ more objectively than you have been."

"That’s actually good advice. Thank you."

"But remember,” said Troi, “that eventually you’re going to have to acknowledge your emotions, too. Don’t use this as an excuse to keep ignoring them. It is a bridge."

Cautiously, Delia nodded. “Acknowledged,” she said.

***

"I am flattered that you chose to defend me," said Data, after Delia had recounted her experience facing Troi after Data had exposed her. "Thank you."

"Flattered," said Delia. "Isn’t that a human emotion?"

"Simply an expression," said Data. "Please continue with your story."

"Data… has it ever occurred to you that perhaps you do have emotions inside you, that you simply don't realise it because you expect them to present in a human way, and they don’t?"

"Hm," said Data, "it has not."

"Well, think about it now."

His eyes moved as though reading invisible information, and his head cocked to the side in an imitation of human motion. Finally, he looked back at her.

"It does not seem likely. What you are seeing is likely nothing but the imitation of emotion. However, I can not rule it out entirely. I have, at times, behaved in ways that cannot be easily explained away by my programming, and which seemed to defy simple explanation. Your evaluation might clear up such anomalies."

"Then you’ll take it under advisement?" she asked.

"I will."

"Data, what I’m really getting at is that my entire aim in life has become to be able to see the world completely objectively, so that I can find some stability, and learn how to truly better myself. Yet I’m constrained by my feelings, stuck in isolation and self-doubt, bound by my worst fears. I need your help to make me see more clearly."

"I do not understand," said Data. "You have said I have feelings, and yet you come to me for advice on how to cast yours out ―"

"Feelings and emotions are on two different levels,” said Delia. “Your feelings, as such, are perhaps less developed than a human’s, and yet your rational mind far exceeds ours. That makes you unique, and in a unique position to help me. Perhaps you do have emotions, which you simply feel in your own way... that idea alone fascinates me. But whether or not that’s true, I’d like to learn to emulate you. In return, I could attempt to help you emulate humans..."

"By your own admission, you are an outsider to humanity just as I am,” said Data.

“But I am, technically, still human,” said Delia, “so I could help you study humans. I could attempt to answer the questions others won’t talk about. Are there any questions about humanity you have that have gone unanswered?"

“Certainly,” said Data. “I have often found that humans are averse to fine details... and of course, there exist certain taboo topics that humans won’t explain."

“I could,” said Delia. “But in return, I want to understand how your mind operates. There will be, of course, certain functions no human could mimic, but as far as how you think about the world and how you organise your thoughts, I wonder if perhaps that is in the realm of possibility..."

"Perhaps, as a human, you should not try to be so objective," Data suggested. "Humans, as I understand it, evolved emotions as a survival strategy, so they must be beneficial in some way."

"That is true," agreed Delia. "Emotions were ― are ― an evolutionary trait that complex life forms adopted, and social animals further evolved. Positive emotions like love or joy became a means of group cohesion, and negative ones like fear or anger were a response to danger. The emotions that arise in fight or flight situations, for example, allowed us to commit to either choice; anger helped humans bolster courage in the face of danger in the case of the fight response, and fear allowed humans to run away in the case of the flight response. They all have some value under the right circumstances, but they are instinctive things, with no place in the rational world."

"If your argument is that emotions are not appropriate at Starfleet, I must disagree. Although a certain amount of discipline is required here, emotions are also openly expressed by crew, and is in fact encouraged by a number of crew. Under certain circumstances, it is even advantageous."

"I’m aware of that… although I don't believe emotions are particularly advantageous in my field, I certainly see its uses under very specific circumstances, like using group cohesion to ease teamwork. Being such a specialist as I am requires a certain level of diplomacy, so some empathy is required. But in general, living emotionally is neither how I choose to live my life nor particularly natural to me. What emotions I do have rarely reach my face, so even if I have a storm of emotions inside me, few would ever know.

"Working for Starfleet isn't exactly my dream job. They constantly undermine not only my work, but I have been personally undervalued by certain members of Starfleet for who I am. Starfleet only cares about what it has to gain; its employees are largely only there to be used."

"If that is your belief," said Data, "then why is it that you continue to work for Starfleet?"

"You might say we’re using each other," said Delia. "Without Starfleet, I wouldn't get the chance to go visit other worlds, to do the work that I do which is so important to me. Besides," said Delia. "There aren't a lot of better alternatives. The Ferengi, the Klingons, the Cardassians, all would be trading down from Starfleet in some social or political arena. I simply chose the best of a bad lot."

"Do you not consider the Vulcans be a good choice?"

"On paper, yes," said Delia. "But they are more xenophobic than Starfleet, and as a human, I would no doubt appear too emotional for the Vulcans where I am too cold for humans. Even if they came to respect my work and choose to take it on board, I doubt they would take me on board. Starfleet, at least, seems to be a multi-racial organisation, a more open-minded alternative to the Vulcans. I know my fellow humans have questioned my humanity in the past, but that doesn’t change that I am."

"Do you feel you have been mistreated by others in Starfleet? Should not you have reported that behaviour, if that is the case?"

"Not mistreated, per se," said Delia. "The truth is, it’s my own issue; I was mistreated when I was younger. And childhood shapes the human psyche, Data, it really stays with you. I have these feelings, that I’m working out with Counselor Troi. Fear, and anger. And it makes me withdraw from people. Except you, Data."

“But I’m not human,” said Data.

“Exactly,” said Delia. “It helps, you not being human. Apparently my prejudice doesn’t extend to you. As it turns out, there are these other things I’ve been feeling, that I didn’t think I should be feeling, that you bring out, Data. Good things."

“What good things do you feel around me?” Data asked.

Delia blushed and looked away. Love, joy. “I can’t tell you that."

“Why not?"

"It's... too personal. I’m too embarrassed."

Seeming to immediately accept this answer without question, Data said, "I seem to recall a similar situation arising between my friend Geordi, and Lieutenant Barclay. Lieutenant Barclay had his own issues, and he was also hiding a personal secret, which my friend Geordi later uncovered on the holodeck."

“I hope you won’t do that."

"You have nothing to fear anything from me."

"Well, did they eventually solve the issue?"

"I believe they did," said Data.

"Hm, perhaps. What exactly happened between them, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I do not mind at all," said Data. "Geordi’s problem with Barclay was that at times he underperformed his duties, and did not speak to other members very often, not even when he needed to do so to perform his function as a team member. Geordi did not know how to how to manage this member within his team."

"In that case, I think I should like to talk to Barclay. He sounds like me when I was younger."

“What do you intend to talk to Barclay about?"

“Our mutual problem. I want to ask him how he lives in a world that understands so little about him, a world so contrary to an existence such as ours."

"I see. Very well."

"Perhaps later I’ll tell you about it. We still have much to learn from each other, so if you agree, I intend to hold you to our deal."

Delia stood. For a moment, Data looked up at her, understanding what she intended to do now.

"I’ll see you then. Goodbye, Delia."

"Bye, Data."

Delia left Ten Forward. "Computer, where is Lieutenant Barclay?" she said, once she reached the corridor.

"Lieutenant Barclay is located in his quarters ―"

"Guide me there."

The corridor lit up, pointing in the right direction. Delia followed all the way to his door. She pressed the door chime.

She was left waiting there for what seemed a long moment. She could already imagine him on the other side, hesitating. It was a familiar feeling. Patiently, she remained there, slightly fidgeting.

The door opened and Barclay stood in its frame, watching her with confused, darting eyes. "Y-yes?" he asked her.

"Uh, hello, Lieutenant Barclay. I’m not quite sure how to put this. I want to talk to you. About something personal. May I come in?"

"P-personal?" repeated Barclay. "You can't want me."

"I do. I have heard about the problem you had some years ago getting on with the staff of this vessel, and it felt familiar. Perhaps you feel a bit awkward about this, but I wondered if you could help me out. May I come in?"

Barclay hesitated several times, almost saying yes or no before changing his mind again. Finally, he settled on an answer. "Yeah, alright, alright, come in."

He stepped fully from the doorframe and Delia walked in. She turned her head to watch as Barclay pushed a button and the door closed.

"Sorry about this," she said, seeing how visibly uncomfortable he was with her in his room.

"So, have they got a nickname for you yet?" asked Barclay, ignoring her apology.

"Nickname?"

“They called me Broccoli."

"Not yet, no. Not here, anyway. In school, they used to call me Robot."

"Sorry, who are you?" he asked suddenly.

"Dr Delia Hardeck, a visiting xenopaleontologist ―"

"Visiting, eh?" said Barclay. "Why come to me, then? All you have to do is wait it out. That’s what I’d do."

"Unfortunately, it isn't quite that simple," said Delia. "My problem isn’t precisely the same as yours."

She sat down at a table, and Barclay settled himself down opposite to her ― as far away from her as possible. That was also familiar.

“My problem is more long-term in nature. You and me, I suspect, are two of a kind. Both rejected by a society that doesn’t welcome... well, that where it becomes personal,” said Delia. “I was once as you are now. Full of anxiety, barely getting my words out, let alone knowing how to get on with people."

“Is that what this is about, b-because I can’t help you g-get along w-with people,” stammered Barclay.

“I know,” said Delia, “or at least, I suspected as much. The reason I’m here is... just to talk. Much better at it than I used to be. I... I just need someone to... Well, I need to ask... how are you getting on with people now? I mean, I know you’re no longer struggling at work. But how are you... personally? Sorry, if this seems overstepping, but I... I just wonder. Because I... I always struggled at it too, and I... don’t know how to stop."

“Neither do I," said Barclay. “I don’t think it ever stops. It doesn’t get any easier. The only thing that ever really changes is... you learn to adapt. You fall in a rhythm, which is... reassuring. It makes it a little less scary,” said Barclay. Delia noticed he was no longer stammering, and he had scooted just a little bit closer. “If it hadn’t been for Lieutenant La Forge reaching out... and I know he was ordered to, I overheard his friends talking... I might never have managed even that."

“How do you feel about that?"

“At first I resented it,” said Barclay. “I knew he didn’t really care about me, that he was only being nice to me because he was forced to. And even by the end, I could feel him condescending to me. But... the time we spent together, on the holodeck and in Ten Forward, felt real. I could feel that he actually had started to care about me, even a little. I became comfortable with him, so I began to open up..."

Delia looked away from him, thinking of the implications for her own life, she thought of Data, of Troi, the only two people she had opened up to for years. She wondered if she cared for her relationship with Troi, such as it was, more than she’d allowed herself to contemplate. After all, why give a blackmailer more ammo to use against you, unless you trust them?

And Data... she had already gotten to know him so well in Ten Forward, with even more plans to get to know him better just on the horizon...

"Do you know Lieutenant Commander Data well?" asked Delia.

"Data, yes, a little. He often comes down to engineering to work with La Forge. I have worked with him, on occasion. Are you having problems with him? He’s one of the few members of staff I feel comfortable with, even if we aren’t close."

He was volunteering information now. That was a good sign.

“Not at all,” said Delia. “In fact, I come to feel closer to him than I’ve felt for anyone for a long time."

“Then what’s the problem?"

“Have you ever felt so isolated from people, even when they surround you, that you start to see attention as a threat?"

“Is that what you feel for Data?"

“No!” said Delia. “Not quite. But growing close with someone else brings certain dangers. The certainty of rejection, for one. You start to hide certain parts of yourself from them. More and more as time goes on, until your interaction with them is nothing but an exhausting performance. You give up before it even starts, because you can’t deal with that again. You become afraid to take any chances with them.

“From what I’ve heard, you tried to use escapism to deal with that problem. But in the end, it didn’t work. What did you do instead?"

"You wouldn’t like the answer,” said Barclay. “I think you already know what it is."

“You talked to him,” said Delia. “I know. It’s not that simple."

“It never is,” said Barclay.

“How’d you do it, though?"

“You want to run away from talking to Data, about... w-whatever it is you’ve got to tell him. I don’t know you or your problems with him. Y-you can either tell him or not. You have a choice. I-I didn’t have a choice but to get on with my co-workers, but your problem seems more ―"

"Personal,” said Delia. “I understand. You know, my talks with Data have led me into changing my mind about other humans. I always had this idea that most humans were petty, vindictive, and conceited. A part of me still distrusts them, but… I’m a scientist, and so I’m always looking for an explanation for the unknown, and other people are as big an unknown to me as anything. In talking with Data, I’ve come to question my own beliefs. Because he sees the world more rationally, I looked up to him; I have always longed to eliminate my emotions from my perceptions, but although I’ve learned to keep them hidden, they still rule me too much. I can't separate myself from them. And when I look at most people, there's usually hate or fear attached.

"But to an extent at least, you were able to get past your problems and begin to relate more to those around you. You have grown as a person, and you have improved upon yourself. That’s what I need. I want to be a person worthy of…"

"Worthy of Data?"

"Among other things. So, will you help me?"

"I still don't know what you expect me to do."

"Just give me your advice. Tell me what happened."

"I-I transferred to the Enterprise-D a few years ago and started working in engineering…" began Barclay. "I’ve always been anxious, my whole life, and especially in new situations, it takes a while for me to ― for me to adjust. I tend to hold back ― a lot. And they held that against me, so I just sort of… got worse as time went on, instead of better. Crusher came up with his nickname for me, La Forge and Riker both became more critical of and more angry at me. Soon I was just stuck."

"So what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. I just started running away. That was when the holodeck trips started. I was so wound up, I knew I needed some release or I would go mad. But I became too addicted, and it started interfering with my work. That’s when La Forge intervened.

“He didn’t like me any better, and he didn’t understand me any better; in fact, I know he became very vocal about his... problem. Me. He became invasive, I felt trapped... until finally he exposed me and my secrets. He didn’t turn away from me, though, he was actually... kind. He extended a hand towards me, and began to help me."

Delia was stunned for a moment at this information. Someone, an outsider, accepting someone like Barclay for exactly who he was? It seemed impossible. The idea of it, of being so exposed, seemed terrifying, and hateful. But the aftermath? Could it be worth it, going through all that?

“Looking back, do you regret your exposure?"

“Of course, I never wanted to be exposed like that,” said Barclay. “I still think about it constantly, and it still hurts. But I don’t regret the connection I gained out of it..."

"What do you think about La Forge? Do you like him now, do you trust him?"

"La Forge is like most people; he doesn't really understand me, but he’s not really a bad person. It just took him awhile to understand, just like it took me awhile to trust."

"So if I were in your position, you think I should give him the benefit of the doubt? You think I should trust him?"

“Are you in my position?” asked Barclay.

"I didn't say that."

“If you were in my position, I’d... try being more honest, with whoever it is giving you trouble. They won’t go digging if you give them the answers they’re looking for."

“I’m not sure if I can do that..."

“Well, the choice is up to you,” said Barclay. “You just have to decide which you’re most afraid of, and avoid it."

"Thank you, Mr Barclay," said Delia. "If I could ask you a bit more, could you tell me a little about La Forge's friendship with Data? Why do you think he liked and trusted Data but not you?"

"I, I don't know," said Barclay.

"Well, let me tell you something about me,” said Delia. "I don’t know about you, but underneath the fear of criticism, I’m angry. I don't trust people. And you know what I think, what I can't help but think because I have no other answers? I think people accept Data better than they wilfully accept us because he’s useful. They reject us because we’re not. Or at least, because they underestimate our usefulness."

"Story of my life."

"So you agree?"

"Maybe I’m scared most of the time," said Barclay, "but when I’m not… I was mad, too."

"Was," repeated Delia.

"Yeah. Look," said Barclay. "I was mad. But La Forge reached out to me. He tried to understand me, even though it was difficult for him to. I stopped hating him so much after that. I just couldn't anymore when he reached out to me like that."

"For example?"

"When La Forge walked in on one of my… holodeck simulations, he… praised me on my… imagination. And then later, he admitted he once fell in love on the holodeck."

"So what, I should just wait for them to try to reach out to me? I have an incredibly tough time trusting that anyone would, since it’s never happened before."

"Or... you know... you could try reaching out to him. Might help you let go of your anger?"

"Let go, of my anger?" said Delia. “May as well ask you to let go of your fear."

“Point taken,” said Barclay, standing up to let her out. She stood, but instead of heading to the door, just stood there, facing each other. "Well, if you’re dealing with anyone but Data, your relationship to him may be a common ground. Data is a... model of what Starfleet would like people like us to be. It isn’t just usefulness, it’s behaviour. How ironic that the ultimate ideal for social interaction should take the shape of android conformity."

"In other words, I’m not a good enough robot to talk to my fellow humans. You’re right, that is ironic."

Barclay led her to the door and let her out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riker meddles with Delia and Data's relationship.

"Mind if I sit here?" asked Riker, approaching Delia’s table.

"As long as you promise not to flirt with me again. That was awkward."

"Alright I won’t," said Riker, swinging his leg over the back of the chair and sitting down. Delia raised her eyebrow.

"Not flirting, I swear!" said Riker, putting his hands up. 

"No, you're just trying to look sexy," she countered. "Or cool," she amended. "Or maybe this is part of your need to look dominant."

"What are you talking about?"

"I’ve noticed you're always propping up one leg. It’s something I’ve seen men before you do, and I believe it's a position of male dominance. Perhaps the gesture you just made sitting down just now is a part of that body language."

"No wonder you get along so well with Data. Always analysing something. I prefer not to think too deeply about things."

"And it shows," said Delia. 

"Wow, sassy."

"Are you going to tell me which one it is?" she asked.

"I don't know. Maybe I'd rather keep up the mystery,” said Riker.

"It is dominance,” Delia speculated.

“Maybe,” said Riker. "I don't really see anything wrong with that if it is. What’s wrong if a man wants to take charge occasionally?"

"Constantly."

"Didn’t know you were counting. Have I offended you somehow?"

"Perhaps."

"Well then, but all means, tell me what I’ve done wrong!"

Delia said nothing.

"I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot," Riker tried again. "Perhaps we should start again."

“Look, no, it’s not you,” sighed Delia. “It’s just, I’ve known men like you before. Cocky, talks sweet but says nothing, superiority complex."

“Well, I don’t know about any of those men, but you don’t even know me. I could surprise you."

"No."

“No? You’ve made your mind up just like that? Now who’s cocky?"

“I’m not cocky. Far from it. I simply learn from experience. I’m sorry, I simply never trust men like you, nor do I feel comfortable around you.”

“Men like me?"

“So-called ‘ladies’ men’. Not this one. Try chatting up someone else."

“I’m not really here to ‘chat you up,’” said Riker.

"Oh?"

"What do you think of Lieutenant Commander Data?" asked Riker. “I understand my initial impression of your relationship was not accurate."

"I… think he’s a good officer,” offered Delia. "Seems to get along with the crew, despite not many crewmen understanding ―"

"I mean personally."

Delia raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?" she said.

“Do you prefer men like him, courteous men, intelligent men, perhaps even naïve men?"

"Do I like him, you mean?” said Delia. “I really don’t think it’s your place to be asking. Besides, he’s not a man, he’s an android."

“From what I’ve seen, you don’t seem to mind."

Delia didn’t argue the point; it sounded as though Riker got this information from simple observation, an act she had learned to appreciate since she had first read Sherlock Holmes. Perhaps she had given herself away at some point.

Somehow, she thought this was a conversation of which Counselor Troi would approve.

“If you’re going to make some smartass remark ―"

Riker threw up his hands. “Hey. I wasn’t going to say anything, I swear,” he said. “Personally, I think you two would be good together. Don’t let something like his status as an android stop you."

“You... aren’t going to make fun of me?"

“Is that what those other guys did, made fun of you? You can’t have known the most ―"

“No,” said Delia, “not exactly. But many have."

“You can’t have known the best friends."

“What friends?"

“I see..."

"How would you feel if Data and I became ― friends?" said Delia.

"Friends?" asked Riker. "Why do I get the impression that isn't the question you wanted to ask?"

"I don't know, Commander. I can't know what goes on in that head of yours."

“I’d say that was fine,” said Riker. “But you’d be better as boyfriend and girlfriend."

“Ah,” said Delia. “Well, that’s not going to happen ―"

“Why not?"

“Have you forgotten I am only temporarily assigned to this vessel?"

“No, I haven’t forgotten."

“Then perhaps you think it isn’t serious between us?"

“I think you’re just making up excuses because you’re scared."

“What do you know about it, anyway?"

“I bet I know why,” Riker continued. “You’ve never been in a relationship before, have you?"

“It’s none of your business,” said Delia, looking away.

“You seem like the type―"

Riker suddenly stopped when he noticed Delia looking away from him and followed her gaze. He found himself looking at a small party of men seated at a table.

"Maybe you should try talking to them. Flirt a little."

“What about Data? Weren’t you just trying to convince me to date him?"

“You could use some practice."

“Sounds like cheating to me."

“You’re not even dating him yet."

That was a good point. She hesitated, now somewhat backed into a corner. "I don't know how to flirt."

"Well, it's easy. Look into his eyes a little, say a pick up line. Couldn’t be more simple."

"What then?" she said.

"Assuming it works?" said Riker. "Don’t worry about it. Try to get him interested first."

"No, I need to plan this in advance, the whole conversation, or it isn’t going to work. I’ll just screw it up, as usual."

"We’re talking right now," said Riker. "Don’t tell me you planned this conversation out?"

"This is different. You surprised me. And you’re not flirting with me, this time."

"What’s the difference?"

“It's too stressful. I don’t want to humiliate myself."

“Flirting’s not supposed to be humiliating, or stressful. It’s supposed to be fun."

“Not in my experience."

“So you’ve tried this before?"

Delia squeezed her eyes shut. “Forget it,” she groaned.

“No, wait, wait, I didn’t mean to..." Riker touched her shoulder gently. “Are you alright?"

She gave a weak smile. “I'm sorry,” she said. Her lip trembled. "I need time to get to know someone. I just can’t... walk up to them and start talking. I’ll quickly fall quiet at a loss for what to say. You’re alright now, though; you’re nicer than you seemed when I first met you. Just don’t flirt."

"You don't trust any guy who tries to flirt with you?"

"Not generally, no. I feel like you're all after something that I can't or won't provide. You have ulterior motives. You care less about me than what you can make me do for you. But now I know you have an actual heart. You like and support Data; I find it hard to hold anything against someone who supports Data. I find myself liking anyone who likes him."

"It sounds like you really like Data," said Riker. "Maybe you should be practising flirting on him, after all."

“Data’s more than a practice board,” said Delia. “He’s a..."

A person, thought Delia. A person who can think for himself. A person who can reject me, and humiliate me. I can never tell him.

“I have to go."

Without another word, Delia left the table and exited the room.

“Wait!” 

Riker chased after her, running ahead of her and blocking her way down the corridor. “I really do think you should give Data a chance. I know you don’t trust easily, but I know Data. He’s a good guy. He wouldn’t hurt you."

“It isn’t about that. Or not just about that. I... I know how good he is. I...” Love him. Oh no, she couldn’t be thinking that. “I know."

“Don’t tell me it’s about your reputation."

Delia said nothing.

“You know what they say about you? That you’re cold, that you hide away, that you don’t like anyone. Now I know that isn’t true. If you truly don’t want people thinking you’re cold, you got to start reaching out to people. Data’s a good start."

“Riker, they’ve been saying that about me all my life, even when I tried to... Point is, I’d much rather they think that about me than that I’m a..."

“A what?"

“Well, like you. No offense. I’d be humiliated if I ever knew people were talking about me like I was some..."

“Go on, say it."

“Whore. Some slut for robots."

“That is some pretty outdated vocabulary. You know full well no one would be saying anything like that about you."

“No one may say it, but sometimes I wonder. People have called me some pretty nasty things. Who’s to say they would end there?"

“The Federation is to say. We don’t pre-judge people like that."

“Don’t you?” said Delia, then thought better of it. “Well, perhaps not. Perhaps it’s just my paranoia. But sometimes I think we’re not as advanced as most of us tend to assume. Sometimes I think we’re just... hiding the dark parts of ourselves from each other."

“Maybe we are,” said Riker. “But loving someone isn’t one of those things. It’s okay if you want to be with him," smiled Riker. "I think it'd good… for both of you."

"It isn't like that. I don't…"

"There’s nothing wrong with liking someone, Delia."

"Depends on who you ask," said Delia. "I’ve known plenty of people who thought there was. Or at least, with the way I do it."

"Well, ultimately it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks,” said Riker, "what matters is what you think."

"I know," said Delia. "But it's one thing to believe something for yourself, and another to be so easily swayed by people that your thoughts and emotions aren't even yours anymore. I feel like I’m just so full of shame just because I was told to be, and so full of anger at having my choice taken away, that my ability to function in a social situation has been crippled."

“You are a thinking, feeling human,” said Riker. “You’re allowed to care about people.

She threw her hands up, exasperated by his ignorant self-confidence. "Am I?” she argued. "I’m not like you. I’m not like any of you, except Data. Maybe they were right when they called me a robot. Sometimes I really think ―"

"Hey," said Riker. "You’re not a robot. Come on, there's got to be another human on board you relate to?"

"Barclay, perhaps."

"Barclay?" said Riker, sounding both shocked and dismayed.

"Yeah, what’s wrong with Barclay?" Delia snapped back.

"Nothing, nothing’s wrong with him!"

"Yeah, right, you think I didn't hear that tone in your voice?"

"Look, nothing, it's just… I didn't exactly… get along with Barclay when he first arrived here. I didn't understand him."

"So I heard," said Delia. Probably because he’s everything you're not."

"I think it's the other way around."

Delia threw up a hand again, gesturing angrily at Riker. "There you go, disparaging him again. Tell me, what exactly is the difference between Barclay and Data? Why do you respect one and hate the other?"

"I don't hate Barclay," said Riker.

"Could have fooled me. From what I hear, you once tried send him off this ship."

"That was a long time ago. I don't feel that way now. Barclay’s made some big improvements the last couple years. I respect him ―"

"Now that he's proven his usefulness. Face it, that's the only difference between them for you. For any of you. You depreciated him because you saw him as useless."

"Well, on a Federation starship ―"

"Right, on a Federation starship. You have no curiosity in you, no empathy. So long as you can use someone ―"

"That’s not how it works!" insisted Riker. "I’m… I do care about people. I’m not as heartless as you seem to think I am. I think you know that, too, or you wouldn't have confided in me."

"My mistake."

"How can you continue to… fight the better side of your nature?" said Riker. "There’s good in you, trust, affection. You like Data, so you must place some value in kindness…"

"I do like Data, you caught me. And you're right, he's good and he is sweet. But that will not stop me from protecting myself, or from trying to make myself stronger. No matter how much I like him, I cannot continue to grow… attached to him. It’s not good for me."

"Yes, it ―" began Riker.

Delia simply walked away. She could not continue to listen to this. He could say no more that she was interested in hearing. She had made her choice.

“Now hold on a minute!” Riker called after her, but it was no use.

***

"Data, I need to speak with you," said Riker.

"Certainly, Commander. What can I do for you?"

"It’s about Delia Hardeck."

"What about her?"

"I’m concerned about her. We had a talk recently, and it became very apparent to me that she has very strong feelings for you that she won’t admit."

"Is this not more of a matter for Counselor Troi?" said Data.

"Data, no. She cares about you, not Troi, and I really think you should try speaking to her about it. She seems to be ashamed of her own feelings, and I think she may benefit from opening up to you. If it were anyone else, I think she’d just shut herself down again, but if it's you… well, she trusts you, Data. There’s every possibility she might start to accept her feelings. And once she does that, she might open her heart to others as well."

"Understood, Commander. I will try."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia and Data discuss emotions, but Delia still refuses to admit to the ones she has for Data.

Data had accepted the deal that Delia had proposed the last time they talked, and had begun to exchange insights into each others modes of thinking while Data kept in mind Riker’s warning.

"I am not your only friend, am I, Delia?" Data asked suddenly, while he and Delia were in the middle of a conversation.

"No, sometimes I talk to Guinan," answered Delia. "She told me the best joke yesterday. She said that you’re a droid, and I’m a noid."

Data looked confused. "She did not call you a droid, did she?"

"No," said Delia. "She called you a droid. We started talking about you. Do you get the joke?"

"Yes, she told it to me already. She then explained to me the double meaning, which I had not gleaned on the first hearing."

"Well, I got the double meaning right away. Do you get human humour, Data? Hm, ‘human humour’. They’re quite similar words, aren't they? I wonder if it’s because humour is considered to be very human."

"Perhaps it is," said Data. "I have observed that it is a very common behaviour in humans. I have certainly tried to grasp what is funny, but I find myself continually at a loss. Would you happen to have some insight?"

"Well, often you hear people talking about comedic timing. That’s when you have to get the timing of a punchline just right or it will fall flat, it won't be funny."

"But what is funny?"

“Depends on who you ask,” said Delia. “Everyone has a different sense of humour. So any joke you tell may fail if told to the wrong person."

“If that is true, comedy sounds far more complicated than I first anticipated."

“Well, luckily, cultural agreements on what is funny do unite many individuals. So if you told a joke that culturally agreed to be funny, then you’re more likely to get a laugh. In my experience, jokes often have double meanings, like that one Guinan told the both of us. Ignorance or stupidity is also considered funny, especially when a confusion between two meanings occurs."

"I understand," said Data. "So you are saying that I, in my ignorance of how humans communicate meaning, inadvertently became the subject of comedy. I have myself made myself an object of ridicule."

"There is a thin line, Data, between being laughed at good-naturedly, in good humour, and being laughed at in a mocking tone, in bad humour. For example, I have told you about how as a child, I was often referred to as a robot. At the time, the tone of this nickname was light, but I could feel that despite this, I was being mocked. Which is why I came to hate the nickname so much and why I started to distrust peoples' intentions so much."

“But with such a vital part of your individual view of the world being based on such a light event like humour, what if you are wrong?"

“I’m not."

“How do you know?"

"I was there. I had to endure their dismissive glares, their constant beratements, their disgusted tones. The jokes may have been light, but nothing else about their attitudes toward me were. And I knew this was the focus of it. I wasn’t there with you when your friends laughed at your inadvertent jokes, so I don’t know what their attitudes were towards you. I just know most of my experiences weren’t positive. If yours are, then I’m glad, though."

As Delia exhaled, Data’s earlier question suddenly registered with her. "Why did you want to know, if I had other friends? Was it just concern, or is it something else?"

"It is because Commander Riker informed me that you might feel a special connection to me, which he suggested was not that typical of friendship. He further suggested that we should talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"He suggested you would not want to talk to anyone but me about it. I am here if you need me, Delia."

"I appreciate the offer, Data, really I do. But I just can't. I’m sorry."

"Well, if you would prefer it, you can use my Freud program," he suggested.

Delia turned on him. "Oh, don't tell me you have a Freud simulation."

He looked at her, confused. “Why not?"

"Data, don't you know how horrible Freud was? Sure, he made some really important breakthroughs, like how beneficial talk therapy can be… but don't you know the deep harm he caused as well?"

"What harm?" asked Data.

"Data, you have to understand that however smart he may have been, he was also greedy, biased, and a product of his time. Have you ever heard of the Freudian Cover-up?"

"No, I have not," said Data.

"Basically, it posits that Freud abused his position as psychoanalyst with many of his female clients. You see, in Freud’s time, sexual abuse of women was very common, and it was often carried out by the women’s fathers or husbands. Many of the women who were under Freud’s care were abused in this way, but it was the husbands and fathers paying for the therapy, so he invented all these sexist theories to appease them. He claimed that women desired their fathers as children, for example, instead of admitting the abuse they suffered as children by their fathers. He shifted blame from the abusers to the victims. He also called women hysterical, instead of admitting that they were dealing with trauma. That particular one ultimately led to ignorance about PTSD suffered by many soldiers in the world wars of the early 20th century. I honestly hate Freud. He caused so much damage that took centuries to undo."

Data looked down at himself. “That is indeed a regrettable legacy."

“Regrettable! It’s abominable! It's... Freud’s theories, even his sexist theories, held sway for centuries! Even now..."

Data looked at Delia. “You asked me to help you to see the world more objectively,” he reminded her. "I have made you angry. Explain to me what has caused this emotion. It help me gain insight into human emotion and help you to analyse your behaviours more logically."

Delia sighed, calming herself down enough to speak. “Because, it’s important to me, Data. Because the way he treated those women could just as easily have been how I was treated, were I to live in that time. And I don’t think it’s fair. It makes me angry because I don’t think anyone should ever be treated like that, and they were, well into modern history. And I have no control over that fact. And it’s certainly true that nowadays we are far from such a barbaric attitude, and we are fortunate, and privileged. But dammit, it shouldn’t be a privilege to be treated with dignity, and maybe there are still echoes of that attitude even now, and I can’t control that either, and as a result I can’t even control my emotions because their irrational and holdovers from a simpler time. And I just want to do something about it, but the world is the world, and the past is the past, and people are people, and I can’t control any of it. And that makes me angry, because we deserve better.

"I feel tense about it. That’s what anger does, it makes me chest tighten and my pulse elevate and... well, I’m sure you already know the physiological changes it can cause. But being angry is like... It is tense, but it’s also… liberating. It makes me feel powerful. I know well the damage it can do, as well as the way it creates social problems, so I try to suppress it. But it’s like it's always there, trying to rise in me, stir up the worst in me. It could destroy me, or someone I care about, if I let it. It helps us protect ourselves and what we love, but in most cases it just spurs me to defend my beliefs, which is neither necessary or helpful in my case. Rational debate, that’s what I hold above all things."

"Your attitude seems more in line with Vulcan philosophy than human," said Data.

"I do admire the Vulcans… to a certain extent. Their detachment from their emotions, their logic, had me admiring them from a young age. But they also share in common a flaw with the humans; their exclusivity, and their dogma. In all their logic, they have closed their hearts to others… much like I have. The objectivity I aspire to contains in it the drive to understand what happened to me and to overcome it. Fear is still holding me back. Part of me still wants to learn to trust, to care, even to love again. Part of me is proud of my emotions. But another part insists they will only hold me back, that they could only destroy me, that I could never overcome my problems if I give them reign. Even if I understand the theory behind why humans need them, I can’t accept it. Whether the answer lies in emotion or logic, I want to finally grow. I used to think intelligence was the most important thing, and I still hold much stock in it. But in my mind, kindness is becoming more important, and you have both in abundance. I want to learn from you."

"As do you,” said Data, “I doubt there’s much I can teach you about kindness or intelligence. And as for love, I am neither capable of feeling it nor teaching you to embrace it, if that’s what you wish to do." 

"Perhaps not love," said Delia, "but there is a kindness in you that I admire. Kindness is another thing I have buried, because I thought doing so made me stronger. But you are strong and kind. I love that about you."

“You are expressing love already,” said Data, “without my help."

“If not your help, then your care and attention would be enough. I know you are capable of that."

"Does it not bother you that I cannot feel emotion?" asked Data.

"No, no, it doesn't bother me…" said Delia. "I understand that you can't, and I don't judge you for it; I don't think any less of you for it. I know you simply think differently. Sometimes, though, it really does seem that you have them. It isn't simply your expressions, it’s your reactions, your functions, your capabilities. You really seem…" Human. No ― emotion isn't essential to humanity. "…able to emote, sometimes."

"But I cannot emote," said Data, "I am ―"

"I know. Perhaps what I'm seeing isn't emotion. Perhaps it's simply… thoughts in motion. What’s the difference, really? Isn’t emotion just… a different kind of thought?"

"There is a marked difference between thoughts and emotion," Data said. "Thought usually requires a specific message, whereas emotion does not. Emotion is, as I understand it, simply an instinctual reaction."

"Perhaps so," said Delia. "But before I met you, I would've characterised confusion or apprehension as emotions. Even feeling flattered. All emotions you have seemed to display. Yet you're incapable of emotions, so how can that be? Perhaps there's a thinner line between thought and emotion than I thought. Maybe thought is enough. Maybe you simply cannot feel strong emotions, or complex emotions. It is a state of being that I’m not entirely unfamiliar with."

"How so?"

"As you know, I have been ostracised by my peers in the past for not displaying… much emotion, at least on the surface. Often, I didn't feel strong emotions myself, and I didn't understand when others did. That’s where the nickname I told you of came from.  
I was taught at an early age that who I was wasn't accepted. Although that person that they rejected wasn’t real, I didn’t know that, and it caused me to develop a lot of negative emotions from a young age. I used to be much like Barclay is now: terrified on the outside, mad on the inside, and feeling thoroughly unloved throughout."

"Although I cannot relate to the feelings of anger and fear, I can relate to the desire to be accepted," said Data.

"Isn’t desire a feeling, too?"

Data shifted his head from one side to another in thought. “Desire,” he repeated, “a wish, a request, a hope, a craving... Are you suggesting..."

“Yes, I am," said Delia. “Perhaps not in the same association that humans would ascribe to it, but desire of a specific type, yes. I do think you’re capable of it."

"Fascinating."

"I should think so," said Delia. "Life-changing, even. It’s what I used to always tell myself: I wasn’t strange, I just thought a little differently. Felt a little differently. There was nothing wrong with that. I wasn't incomplete. It’s what I still tell myself. You’re beginning to believe it too, aren't you? That just because you think and feel differently, doesn't mean you don't think and feel?"

"I decided long ago that I was more than simply an android,” said Data, "so perhaps I already had started to believe what you have suggested. However, my conversations with you have further led me to expand my beliefs on what kind of being I am," said Data. "Perhaps there is more to my operations than I have been led to believe, even by those who encouraged me."

"I’ve been encouraged by friends and family myself, but I never really felt understood by them. And it seemed that an overwhelming majority of people stood in my way as obstacles compared to the number of those who encouraged me. I know I shouldn’t live in the past, but sometimes I feel like I’m trapped there. Thinking too much about the past, and not allowing yourself to move on, can create emotional problems."

Delia averted her gaze from him, feeling ashamed. She imagined what he must think of her. But when she looked back at him, she saw no judgement there, and she smiled.

Some silence passed between them, and Delia turned to the nearest window to their table in Ten Forward.

“I trust you, Data,” she confided in him while looking out at the stars. “More than I trust most people. More than I trust this crew."

“The Enterprise has a fine crew,” said Data, “the best in the Fleet ―"

"It isn't as though I don't trust them as crewmen. I just… as I said, living too much in the past has made me this way. And I can't overcome it."

"You have overcome it with me," said Data. "That is progress, is it not?"

Delia smiled a little, while still avoiding his eyes. Her conscience weighed heavily on her, as she thought of her life of anger and distrust. She was only just beginning to regret it.

“Yes, I suppose it is. I’ve also been talking to Troi a bit about it, though I don't trust her as well as I do you. I get the feeling that she’s just doing her job, that I don't know her and she doesn't know me. Talking about my past with her just feels… hollow. Like I may as well be talking to myself. And not in a good way. 

"I don't know how androids think, but sometimes when I think to myself, there are all these voices from my past. They all sound like me, but they repeat things others have said to me. Sometimes it helps when I imagine having conversations with others I’ve known; I can reach conclusions I’d never have considered as myself. That’s not what it's like with Troi. Whenever I talk to her, I feel like I’m fighting an enemy. That’s how I feel with most people, actually. I suppose I have been fighting all my life, so it's not really surprising. Being vulnerable is… not something I feel I can do for Troi, even if I do make other compromises. But sometimes, like now, even in a place such as this with so many people around, I feel I can for you."

“Why me?"

"No," she said. "Data, I… I’m willing to explain a great many things to you. About my field of work, about humanity, about history, about evolution. But not that. It’s too personal."

"You are a scientist," said Data. "Your job is to uncover the truth, no matter what that may be. Can you really not tell me the truth about you?"

"I can't. It’s too personal," she repeated.

"Should not personal truth be just as important as intellectual truth?"

"It is, Data, it is… it's just… harder to talk about."

"I see," said Data. "You do not trust me ―"

"No ― Data, that's not it…"

"Then is there another reason why you cannot talk about it?" asked Data.

"I…" Delia rubbed the back of her head. "I don't know…" she said. "There are just some things I would rather keep private. Maybe it is a matter of trust… but I’m like that with everyone. I’ve been hurt many times before and, even though I… really like you, that's not the same as full, complete, unequivocal trust. It’s been a long time and, I want to be able to open up to you. I just can't."

Delia blushed and looked down. "Never mind," she said. “I don’t see why I should anyone that."

"That does not seem a particular healthy attitude."

"I know. But it's impossible. I just can't. I will only be what I need to be in front of others, and never my true self. That’s how it has to be, because if I ever ― well, it just can't happen. I don't think I could even if I wanted to. I can't trust in people. Not even you, Data. There’s too much risk involved, I would make myself too vulnerable. So, I will always be hiding."

"The very fact that you are telling me any of this suggests to me that is not true," said Data.

Delia blushed again. "Then perhaps there's hope," she said.

"Perhaps there is."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia finally confesses her feelings for Data, and they have sex.
> 
> This one's where the explicit rating comes from.

Delia lay on her bed, pent up with frustration and desire. 

There was a longing in her, a growing obsession that kept her tossing, kept her pent up and tense. In the privacy of her quarters, she could allow these feelings to take hold of her.

She clenched her muscles, knotting herself into a ball of shame. Thoughts were driven to Data, she indulged her mind for a moment with all the things she wanted to do to him, with him, imagining him beside her in bed, holding him. This only mounted her longings, and she continued to squirm with it.

These thoughts were impossible. She knew, now, that he wasn’t only an android but a being with his own mind; she was sure he wouldn’t want her, not in the same way she wanted him. No human ever had, so what were the odds that he did?

At least here she had privacy, hidden away from the world outside her door.

Perhaps she was being ridiculous… but it seemed impossible that anyone with the freedom to choose, would ever choose her. Perhaps it was the demons in her head, the voices from long ago. But knowing that didn't make it any easier. And violating Data's consent was something she would never do, no matter how strongly her emotions broiled within her.

These feelings would fade, in minutes or hours, as they always did. She just needed the time to feel them now, and let them go later, before she could face the world again.

She wanted him. She wanted him so badly she was barely able to think as her hands explored her body. 

Groping her breasts from outside of her clothes, her hands slipped over the fabric. But there was a zipper down the front, so she pulled it down, and exposed her black bra underneath. She slipped a hand into one of the cups, and was finally met with soft flesh.

She moved to caress her nipple, imagining Data's hand upon her.

What was she doing? She stilled her hand, squeezing her eyes shut. 

This was ridiculous. It was the thought of sex with an android that stilled her. She didn’t think any less of Data for being an android, but she knew others would think less of her for it. They would call her predatory, pathetic, ugly, robotic. They’d call her wrong.

She hated them for it. But she was also ashamed of herself for her own fantasies.

None of that deterred her from the strength of her desires; it didn't stop the tension in her body, her need to relieve it; her affection for, her need for, even addiction to Data; it didn't make her want him any less.

Her eyes opened, and she forced herself to look back down at herself, at the state of her.

Unfastening her pants, she dug her hand in. She dipped her finger down, and found herself wet. She ran a finger up her labia, at the same time relieving the pressure and building it up within her. She stopped when she reached her clitoris, then tentatively massaged it, moving her finger in circles inside it.

Don’t do this. Stop this.

"Ah!"

Once again, she stilled her hand. Then, instead of stopping, she dipped her finger down again, slowly running it down her labia to her entrance. She rubbed and the fleshy folds that guarded her hole and began stroking them.

This action had sometimes been enough to satisfy her without venturing inside herself too much; being just enough to tide her over.

But tonight that simply wouldn’t do. She wanted it all, needed it all.

Control.

Aching to keep control of herself, she stilled her hand and withdrew it back to rest on her hip. She breathed, trying and failing not to clench, to ignore the need.

Staying in that position, she squeezed her eyes closed again, willing herself still. Then her eyes opened to stare at the ceiling, cheeks hot, breaths coming in sharp.

She breathed deeper, drawing out her breaths, but she didn't feel calmer. She just kept imagining… kissing him. Touching him. Caressing him.

Was there some other way, without actually doing it, that would not give herself away? She was sure all the replicators’ orders were monitored, so she could order nothing that could ease her need without alerting someone to it. But there were privacy laws surrounding the holodecks, so it could remain private so long as you didn’t prove a risk to yourself or others. It was still possible to be walked in on or interrupted, though. Too risky.

Yet, the frustration was too strong in her to ignore the thought. It was damn tempting. She just had to make it to one without suspicion arising from her appearance.

“Computer,” said Delia. “Are there any images of Lieutenant Commander Data in the ship’s holodeck memory buffer?"

“There are 3 different configurations of Lieutenant Commander Data in the memory buffer."

“Are there any free holodecks at the moment?"

“There are a range of available holodecks available. Holodeck 3―"

“That’s good enough. Guide me there."

She got up, restless to get going, as the computer issued its first instructions. For a nervous moment, she doubted what she doing. But now that she was thinking of it, there was a drive in her to try it. 

Whatever the risk.

Rearranging her clothes, she took another few calming breaths with her back straight. 

Then she walked to her bathroom mirror, peered into it, and carefully examining herself before she began to wash her hands. Then she examined her fingertip, which was slightly wrinkled and caked with dirt. There was the faint stench of her own fluids on it.

"Computer," she said, stepping back into the room, hesitating. "Initiate air freshener in my quarters. Light floral scent."

At her command, a faint scent filled the room. She stood there, feeling a little paranoid, as the scent drifted. She rubbed at her fingertip with her thumb, sloughing off some dirty texture, allowing the build-up to fall to the floor.

She straightened her clothes back into a professional appearance for extra measure, then replicated an empty isolinear rod ― not willing to share her program with anyone and too paranoid to allow the computer to store it ― and pocketed it.

Hiding her wrinkled finger in that same pocket, she slowly walked from the room.

Breathing steadily, she walked as calmly as she could down the halls. It wasn’t that far to Holodeck 3, and a crewman looking to go there in her free time wasn’t suspicious, anyway. But she was constantly aware, as she walked, of the wet ache in her pants.

When she finally made it to the holodeck, ordered the doors open and stepped inside. When she asked the computer to lock the door behind her, however, she got told that there was no locking mechanism.

Great. What am I doing?

Nevertheless, she entered her isolinear rod into the arch, and stepped into the gridded room. She stared warily at the walls before ordering up the Data simulations, forcing out her most immediate fears of being found out from her mind.

The different versions of Data materialised in front of her. She chose the Data most similar to the one she knew, and input a design in which he would express desire for and pursue the player in the most Data-like way as possible, in all his awkward-winking, stiff-sitting, sweet and innocent glory.  
"Computer, create a simulation of this ship’s Ten Forward."

The setting appeared around her, an exact copy, unpopulated.

"Alright…" she said. "That’s a start. Now…"

She approached Data where he sat before her at a nearby table. He looked his usual self. But his green eyes, as they connected with hers, seemed to spark with interest at her. He had a small smile, genuine and familiar, and it was directed at her.

He was mesmerising.

She smiled at him, and he gestured to his table. “Would you like to sit?"

At first bashful, then gaining confidence, she stepped towards him. "It’s good to see you," she said.

His gaze was analytical yet charged with a dash of charm as he looked back at her. "It is good to see you, too," he said, "though that does not answer my question."

Delia grinned wider. “Of course I would,” she said. She realised that this was turning out to be more like a date than what she had originally had in mind when she first set out. But she found that when he was staring at her like this, it felt too real. She was still too afraid to reach out and touch him.

But this was the holodeck, after all, so she was free to experiment.

Delia reached out and took his hand. Then, curiously, she raised it up and analysed its composition. Then, she began massaging his palm, occasionally, swiping a finger over his pulse point. She took pleasure the thought of whatever flowed through his veins pounding against her finger.

Looking into his green-yellow eyes, she talked to him about what was on her mind, what she had wanted to tell the real Data but had still been too afraid to.

"I miss you. I want you. I need you. Data… I was terrified you wouldn't want me. If this is the only way I can have you… then I’ll take it."

Data looked into her eyes, and she imagined affection there. "I want you," Data said, and it didn't feel like a lie. "I want you too."

"I trust you more than I have allowed myself to trust anyone in years," she said. "I don't know how, but you crashed down all my walls as soon as you looked at them. I don't know why I’m still too afraid to tell you this, but I love you more than anyone I ever have before. You’re not my first, but you're the most wonderful, kind, and somehow understanding person I’ve ever met."

The sim-Data looked at Delia with eyes that held more love than the real Data could have. It wasn't real, but she refused to call him hollow. If it was Data, even a projection of the real Data, he could never be as hollow as the whole of humanity had been to her. Even a not-real Data was better than that.

Then she stood up, so that she could lean over the table and kiss him on the lips. Even if this Data was a consolation prize, she wanted him, and in here, he loved her back. Her left hand came up to hold his neck as she kissed him deeply.

The background sounds of the setting melted away as she melted into Data, whose lips were rich, and moist, and pulling her in... She dragged him to his feet so that she could wrap him up in her arms, grasping him with starved fingers, kissing him deeper.

Then she heard the hiss of doors opening, and with a gasp leapt from her sim-Data’s arms and turned toward the sound.

It was Data. The real Data.

"Delia," he said, looking between her and the Data simulation, while Delia blushed with shame.

She hoped he wouldn’t ask. But she immediately knew he would; he had to.

"Why were you kissing a simulated version of myself?"

Delia averted her eyes. "I… what are you doing here?"

"The captain told me to fetch you, and you were not in your room,” said Data. “I found your badge hidden amongst your blanket, and I was concerned that something had happened to you. According to the computer's most recent records, you had sought out the nearest holodeck, and you were led here.   
So I came to find you. When you did not answer, and had to enter, in case you were in trouble."

Delia sighed. “Why were you asked to fetch me?"

"We are coming up on Rigel IV, and it was suggested that you might want advance warning so that you could pack."

She was disappointed that she had been interrupted for such an ordinary reason. Still, it was a perfectly legitimate one. She wished she had thought of it earlier and planned ahead for it.

“Please don’t tell anyone what you’ve seen here, Data. Please."

“I will not, if you wish it. But you have not answered my question. Why were you doing it?"

"Because… because I like you, Data."

"Should not you have simply told me that," asked Data, "rather than using a simulated version of myself to express yourself upon?"

"I was… afraid," confessed Delia. "Of what you would think, of what everyone else would think. I didn't want to be rejected."

"So you simply assumed rejection, and acted accordingly," said Data. "It was not a particularly rational reaction."

"I know. But I... Please don't be disappointed in me," said Delia. There was practically begging in her voice.

"I am incapable of disappointment ―"

"― because you're an android? Why do I find that so hard to believe?"

"I do not know. Nevertheless, it is true."

"We’re not all rational, all the time. We can’t be. I can’t be, although I try..."

“Is this you breaking off our arrangement?” asked Data.

“No, Data, I... oh, I don’t know. I still want to continue exchanging information. I just... I don’t know. Maybe you were right. Maybe I shouldn't try too hard to become less human. Maybe I’m just letting them win."

"'Them'?" repeated Data.

“The ones who did this to me. The ones who turned me against myself."

“Was not it you who decided to turn against yourself?" asked Data.

“I didn’t decide anything. Again, I had no control over what I was doing to myself. I wanted to fight it, but I was too weak. I was just a kid. I was surrounded by this... toxic talk. And I just absorbed it, even as my inner voice raged against it. Who I was before was drowned out by it, and I started to hate myself. Even when I tried to speak out against what was happening to me, I was just shamed for it. And now everyone just acts like society is perfect and has no prejudices. I suffered from nothing worse than a bad reputation, yet it destroyed my faith in others and soaked me in shame.

"I assumed your rejection was inevitable because that's how others always reacted to me in the past. Even if logically I know it isn't true, I always think everyone will react the same now, too. I really hate that. I wish I had more control over myself."

“I am sorry if I was not what you needed me to be."

“Oh, Data, I love you ― for... who you are, not what you are."

For a moment, Data stared as though astonished. "You... love me? How long have you felt this way?"

"Practically since I first met you. But the feeling has grown over time. Now it seems overwhelming. Or else I wouldn’t have resorted to this."

"If you had simply come to me, I am certain I would not have rejected you. We have grown close, have we not?"

"I know, Data, but it's… different. The way I feel for you and the way you feel for me. It’s different…"

Data considered her. “Am I not enough for you? Would you prefer someone who is whole, someone who is… capable of giving you a romantic context?"

"Oh, Data,” said Delia, sadness washing over her at such self-deprecation coming from him. “You are whole. I know you don’t think you are, but I do. There’s nothing wrong with who you are, right now. I know you’re not capable of feeling romantic attraction, and I wouldn’t want you to be anything but what you truly are. I love everything about you, Data, as you are now, not as some imitation of humanity. I don’t need romance from you, Data, I only require your friendship, your loyalty, your affection, which I know you can give me...” 

For a moment, she looked towards the sim-Data, as though reminding herself of something else. “Maybe one more thing."

Data looked between her and the sim-Data. “Computer, discontinue image,” he said.

The image disappeared, forcing Delia to look back at him again.

"You want me to perform similar acts such as the one he was doing to you,” said Data.

"Yes."

"Why?"

“Why do you think, Data? Because I like you and there’s no one else I’d rather... you’re the first one I’ve ever really wanted to... I’m a woman, and as some women might say, I have needs...” She sighed. "Needs I’ve always relied on myself for, but recently... since I’ve come to trust you... more than anyone I’ve ever known... I’ve started imagining doing these things with you."

“What things?” prompted Data.

She squeezed her eyes shut, shame washing over her body and she prepared herself to make her confession.

"Sex."

Silence. Slowly, she opened her eyes, to peek at Data’s reaction.

No visible reaction. He truly was an android. "That would be acceptable," he said.

Delia stared in shock for a moment. She should’ve known it would mean nothing to him, but the prospect of his rejection had been too much to contemplate.

"It would?" she said.

Data seemed fazed by Delia’s reaction. "Yes," he said. "It would."

Delia stepped towards Data. Data watched her approach, with green eyes flicking up and down cautiously.

She reached for his hand and brought it up to examine. The pads of his fingertips appeared to have fingerprints. Such exact detail spoke of an excruciating amount of dedication that went into creating him. Delia imagined a workman spending long hours creating parts, moulding each detail by hand.

She kissed each fingertip, then looked up at him.

"Why are you doing that?" he asked.

"I’ve been wondering about this. The fine details of you. You have fingerprints. I wonder what else you have. I want to know all of it."

"But you kissed them. Why?"

"I wanted to. They seem… precious to me. I’ve… thought a lot about this… wanted this. Struggled, been afraid, been ashamed. But perhaps… there is nothing wrong… with wanting this."

“Why were you ashamed?” asked Data. “Surely sex is nothing to be ashamed of."

“It is to me. I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve always been different. And though I always tried to be proud of that difference, I couldn’t, because everyone around me was telling me something different. I learned to become ashamed of everything I am, a shame I’ve had to fight tooth and nail against ever since I developed it. Sex was one of the worst aspects of this shame. Because... I can’t even remember why, except for a few vague memories. That my body reflected my wrongness, so it was criticised most brutally of all. I learned to think of myself as ugly, as undeserving of intimacy. And although I know now that none of that was true, I cannot remove the feeling of it being true.

“You, Data, are kind though, and ignorant of all this. You... I can trust you. You would never... be cruel to me, you would never even think these things that I was told. Perhaps, being an android, you can't feel love; but you can feel something, you’ve already demonstrated that. Small things, things like affection. Even if it’s positronic, or algorithmic, you care about people, you desire to be human; those are feelings. And I want to show you more. I want to share my feelings with you; I want us to learn everything from each other that we can while I’m still here..."

“I would like that,” said Data, and stiffly held his arms out for her. She allowed herself to walk into his embrace. There was comfort there, even aware as she was of the artificiality of it. Where others would call it hollow, Delia felt it tender.

Guilt and loss melted from her; she felt it melt off Data, too. "You’re so sweet, Data. You are not as incomplete as you feel you are, not being human. Whether you become more human makes no difference to me. You are complete in my eyes."

"As you are in mine. There is nothing wrong with the way you feel, either. You are entitled to feel or not to feel how you wish."

"Thank you, Data," Delia said, and wrapped her arms around Data, squeezing lightly.

She pulled away and looked up into his face. Details of his face came into sharp focus: his green eyes, his golden lips, his red tongue. Her eyes lingered over his mouth, then she leaned in and kissed it. His lips were soft and flexible, his tongue wet and synthetic.

She smiled when she pulled apart from him.

“Is this the prelude to sex?"

Delia blushed, embarrassed, but didn’t silence him. “It’s also a sign of my affection."

“Should we not... adjourn to your quarters?"

“Yes, I think that would be best."

She shut down the simulation and pocketed the isolinear rod. Then she walked with Data to her quarters.

When they entered, she put away the rod into a drawer, and Data sniffed the air.

“Is this some kind of... aphrodisiac?” asked Data. “I detect a floral scent."

“Just the air freshener, Data," said Delia. “I’ve once read that aphrodisiacs aren’t real, they don’t work; it’s all a placebo."

“Is that so?” replied Data. “I did wonder how the olfactory senses could influence sexual pleasure."

“Well, I believe the theory was that they were all connected to each other; you stimulate one, then theoretically you’d stimulate the other. But I guess not. Although, I suppose there must be those who simply enjoy stimulating sensual pleasure before..."

She turned to find Data lying on her bed, without his shirt. “You move fast."

“I am an android. I am designed to ―"

“Yes, I know, Data. Just don’t move so fast that I can’t keep up."

“I am sorry. Do you want to remove your shirt now?"

She smiled to herself; she couldn’t help it. She was a bit nervous, she had to admit. And the sight of Data, lying on her own bed without his shirt, was quite surprising, and alluring. But his banter was helping her relax, allowing her to forget her self-consciousness.

Taking off her shirt turned out to be really easy. She hanged her Starfleet jumper off the back of a chair. But her bra remained on, for now.

She giggled, then joined Data on the bed. She kissed him and stroked his chest.

“Do you wish to stimulate sensual pleasure as a prelude to sex?" Data asked.

Delia erupted into giggles again, and Data watched her curiously.

“Yes, Data. This is something I need to ease into. I know you probably can’t feel touch, but I can, and it’s always pleased me even more than sex."

“Then should not we simply stick to sensual touch?"

“But I want sex too. I’m just a bit more nervous about it."

With that word, she continued kissing him and stroking his chest. Then, choosing to expand her exploration of him, moved her hands along his arms, neck, and through his hair. All the while, she continued kissing his mouth, as well as kissing his jaw, earlobe, and neck.

“Delia,” said Data. “There is one thing I would like to ask, given that you promised to share your experiences with me."

“Go ahead and ask, Data."

"What is love?" asked Data.

"Love is… a deep affection. It’s a connection to, a dedication to, and a dependence on someone. It’s caring about the welfare of another, sometimes to an even further extent than yourself. Love is a combination of all these things, and perhaps more. It’s a complex emotion."

"I do feel connection to you," said Data, "and I care about your welfare. Is that enough?"

"Some would say it's not," said Delia, "would say that’s not enough to be classified as love. I’m not so sure. If the connection's deep enough, I don't see why it isn't love. I really don’t know what else is required. Commitment? No, plenty of people love from afar. Action? Maybe, but I don’t see it as endemic to love."

"It certainly does seem complex," said Data.

"That’s why I’ve often struggled to recognise it in the past. I’m not even sure I recognise it now. I’ve always been rather in denial about feeling it, because I always had this expectation… Well, I was always taught that love was this indefinable thing, but I never accepted that. No one would ever give me a straight answer; they never even tried. So I had to find my own answer. And I don't know, and I don't care, if my definition doesn’t meet the commonly accepted one, whatever that is. I love you, Data, and I’m through fighting it.

"You are an android, and therefore always reminding me you’re incapable of feeling emotion, which I don’t entirely believe, but even if you are, it doesn't matter. You don't need to love me like humans do. Your neural pathways have become used to my presence, so maybe that’s enough. It still comes down to us caring about each other; I wouldn't ever do anything you're not comfortable with, and I will always accept you as you are now. I feel safe with you, Data. I feel I can express my feelings without feeling…"

"Yes?" said Data.

"I can say, ‘I love you,’ without feeling ashamed. Without feeling degraded. Without feeling humiliated. Without having to defend myself. When it's just the two of us together, sharing a moment, I can forget, briefly, of every moment I was ever teased, or humiliated, or put down for feeling something. I’ve never felt like I could feel that before. No human has ever made me feel okay to love, or that the way I love is right. You do."

"Humans often feel emotions. Why should you be chastised for yours?” asked Data.

“I've never understood it myself. Humans have, to a large extent, learned to throw away irrational prejudices, but they’re still there, hidden. It’s part of human nature to fear difference. Prejudice is closely attached to difference. We learned to get rid of racism, sexism, poverty. But prejudice against neurodivergents rose up alongside prejudice against Augments. The mentally ill has no stigma against it; the flagship of the Federation has even assigned a counselor to its crew. Counselors are taught to treat ordinary people with mental and emotional problems, as well as the mentally ill. But not the mentally disabled. This is because they distrust us. In their minds, we’re no better than the Augments. Good eugenics or bad eugenics, it doesn’t matter. They are equally afraid of all of us. 

"I’m good at my job. I hoped perhaps that would give me some small reprieve. I must always be careful to remain on the good side of society. But at the same time, I can’t reveal more about myself than is strictly necessary, or I risk myself and my career. That includes what I tell Counselor Troi. I just have to hope my secrets remain secret."

“Counselor Troi is a very wise and empathetic person. I am sure she would not violate your secrets or do any harm to you," said Data.

“Yes, I do get that impression too. Certainly, autism is far from the worst thing I could’ve been born with, but even that had a significant negative impact on my life. As a result of it, much about me was chastised, as you put it.

“So for a long time, I often felt it was justified to feel no emotion, to sacrifice good emotions to get rid of bad ones. Since meeting you, I’ve begun to change my mind on that. So thank you, Data.

"If you tell Troi about all this later, to try to help me, I won’t stop you. But your previously having done so did tempt me not to trust you. In the end, though, it wasn’t enough. I don’t know if I’m grateful to you or not. All I can ask is that you don’t tell anyone what we do or talk about together and simply trust you to keep to your word."

"I promise not to tell," said Data.

Delia smiled at Data. "Thank you, Data. I know you’re only concerned about me. The intimacy between us… should not be shared with anyone but us."

"You are welcome."

With that, Delia moved on top of Data, shifting herself forward so that she straddled his lap. "I need to hear it from you before we go any further. I need to hear your consent. So, tell me, Data. Do you want me?"

There was a look in his eyes that looked remarkably like pleasure. “Yes, Delia, I do."

“Then I’ll need you to focus solely on me. Oh, you can make whatever calculations are natural to you, I don’t mind that. But don’t think of anyone but me. This moment, now, is just for us. No one else can know. This is a matter of human privacy. There are just some things we don’t tell each other..."

“I understand,” said Data.

She began to grind against him. She could feel his length in his pants, and lined herself up with it so that she could feel him rub against her labia, even through their pants.

"You know, I used to think that intelligence was the most important thing," said Delia, and Data stared back into her eyes. "I don't feel that way now. You’re so sweet… I respect your intelligence, and I love your curiosity. But it’s your kindness that I love most of all…"

"Delia, being polite is one of my subroutines," said Data. "What you are in love with is in fact, just part of my programming."

Delia paused in her ministrations to look at him in concern. But she was already too turned on to stop completely, so when she resumed, it was slower, pausing at each end before moving in the opposite direction.

This only mounted her sexual tension, but she was determined to hear him out.

"Data… you are an intelligent life form in your own right. Your subroutines are part of you, regardless of how they came to be. You are a sentient being. You live."

"Delia, I cannot help but wonder… if I had been programmed in another way… would you still love me?"

“If you were anything but what you became, I might not. Regardless of whether your brothers outlive you, or humans learn to recreate your kind, you are unique, Data. I love you. Isn’t that enough?"

"Perhaps our relationship is simply a matter of a few circuits."

"Perhaps, but I have to believe there is more to you than just your programming. You have your own mind. Humans and their capacity for love is nothing but a synaptic response in the brain; did you know that love and drug addiction behave the same way in the human brain?"

"So love is also a kind of addiction?" said Data.

"Yes, and a good one, despite anything I ever thought when I was younger. You see, I was afraid, I had never really felt like I do now. I never imagined it would feel… like this. For better or worse, Data, I’m addicted to you, and the feeling is so strong that I’m defenceless to resist it. What's most shocking of all, I don't care. I want you, Data, in whatever way I can have you. Please, let me…"

"Possession is another facet of love?" asked Data.

Delia hesitated. "It can be. True love isn’t purely possession; in fact, I used to hate the idea of anyone possessing me. On its own, possession isn’t love. A possessive person can feel sexual and romantic attraction towards their object of affection without feeling love. Love is feeling cared for. Not just wanting, or having, but letting someone protect you, or protecting someone. Love is sacrifice, it’s letting go, standing up for someone no matter the personal risk to yourself. It isn’t just bravery, it’s selflessness, it’s connection, it’s affection, it’s empathy.

"It goes a bit beyond attraction. It’s putting a personal stake in someone. Love isn’t just one emotion, but many simultaneously. We all react to it differently, and it's what we do with it, what our values are, that truly make us who we are and defines the way we love."

"I see," said Data. "Then how do you love?"

"The way I love," repeated Delia. "I’ve never given myself the chance to find out. I’ve always been bold in my work and shy in my personal life. I think I love gently, always careful, watchful, learning. I think I worship in the details, memorising every last bit of it while I can. 

"There is still fear in me, but I think it’s full with anticipation rather than reservation now. I can't hold back any longer…" She ground particularly hard against him, as though to punctuate the point, "Let whatever happens happen."

He looked down at the point where their bodies met, then back up into her eyes again, thoughtful and sincere. “Is sex a part of love?” he asked.

"It’s an expression of it. Like possession, though, it isn’t love on its own."

"I wish I could feel love as you do," said Data.

"Hm,” said Delia. “It doesn’t matter if you do or not. This is something you can share with me. So share it with me, Data."

With another roll of her hips, Delia  
said, "I’ve made my full confession. Now I want your attention. Whenever you find yourself completely alone in your room, I want you to think of me, to remember this moment. Even when I’m gone, I want you to still remember every second I was alive and in your arms. I want you to remember how I felt. I want you to chart every detail of me, the way I do to you. I don't need your undivided attention… but I want your close attention, and I want you to tell me what you're experiencing with me. I want to be your latest lesson in human intimacy. I don't care if I’m your first. I just want to be important, for this brief space in time."

"You are important," said Data.

"Good," said Delia.

Delia ran a hand through Data's hair. "Why do you keep your hair back like this?" she wondered aloud. 

"I do not know. It never occurred to me to change."

She let out his hair so that it fell loosely about his face. "I like that. You look really good like this."

"Did I not look satisfactory before?"

"You were satisfactory," said Delia. "But this is even better.

"Data, while I’ve known you, you have taught me more about the broadness of life, and what it means to live. I have been enlightened to know you, and now I want to know even more. I want to learn as much from you as I can, and I want you to learn from me.

"So let’s start with experience. Have you ever had any intimate experiences with humans before now?"

"I have had a sexual experience once, with a woman who used to serve this vessel. She swore me to secrecy on it after the fact."

"So I’m not your first intimate secret. Good," said Delia. "Then I don’t have to explain this part to you. I don’t want you to tell anyone, whether they’re someone well trusted or not."

"Is there any difference," asked Data, "between telling those who you trust and those whom you do not know well?"

"There is an incredible difference. Those you trust will treat your secret with more sensitivity, they will understand."

"Then why―"

“Because I’m unwilling to take even that much of a risk."

"Then you do not trust anyone."

"No," said Delia.

"Including me."

"You’re the exception, Data."

"Then you think that I, an android, understands you more than any human?"

"That’s right, Data."

His head shifted. "I do not understand."

Delia sighed. "You and I both, in one way or another, don't fit in with human behaviour; we are forever looking in, trying to understand it. You are a much more extreme example, of course, but I… I have always felt that others were looking down on me, that they saw me as something less than human, even though that wasn't true. So I turned my back on them, becoming too afraid to try to fit in anymore; I was too afraid to get hurt again. That’s how I spent my life, always afraid, retreating into my work, foregoing anyone's help or companionship. I didn't need it, and I convinced myself I was happy like this. I suppose I was."

"Then you met me," said Data.

"That’s right."

"Do you not consider me, then, to simply be a convenient body, a familiar mind, for you to take advantage of? Am I not simply… an object to use?"

"No… Data, if I thought that, I would not have waited until now to act. I would have acted on my desires as soon as I could. And I have had plenty of opportunities. But now here we are," said Delia. She slid a hand up Data’s side.

"If you do not mind me asking, why did you wait until now to act?"

"I was afraid to want you. Not only because I’m afraid to want anyone, but because I was afraid of how much less people would think of me for being with an android. And I wasn’t sure at first whether you really were sentient or just a machine. If you were just a machine, I was afraid that would make me a depraved and desperate lunatic; if you were sentient, I was afraid you would inevitably reject me. You chose to be here, though, Data."

"Which eliminates both of your previously imagined scenarios," finished Data. "But what of your fear of ‘wanting anyone’? Are you still afraid of wanting me?"

"Yes, I suppose there’s some small part of me like that. Yet, I chose to be here, too. I’ve never done this before, Data, not with anyone. But I’m not as scared as I thought I would be. This just feels right. It feels natural."

Delia grabbed one of Data's hands with both of her own, and placed it over her heart. "Can you detect my heartbeat?" she asked.

He took a moment. "I can detect it."

"Is it pounding?"

"It is… more elevated than usual."

She smiled to herself a little. "Anticipation," she said, “and only a little bit of fear. I want this."

Seeing that he accepted her answer, Delia asked Data to lie down on the bed, and she straddle his lap again and smiled as she took in the sight of him. He was both anatomically correct and had an alluring shape. His torso appeared like a slightly toned man’s, with pectoral muscles rising a little over a slender belly. There was no belly button.

Running his hands over the torso, her smile grew. She was fulfilling a life of sexual fantasies tonight. It was the little things, the little touches in a thousand fantasies that she was taking the time to fulfil. She savoured him.

"You said you’ve had one sexual partner," said Delia. "You’re my first. I have touched myself regularly enough, so I’m not a complete novice; I know what I’m doing. It is simply a partnered experience which I lack."

One of her hands wandered to his right nipple. "How anatomically correct are you?" she wondered aloud. She tweaked the nipple. "Does this do anything?"

Just as she asked the question, Data's right nipple rose erect.

"Could you… feel that?" asked Delia.

"I can feel no physical sensations as a result of the stimulation," answered Data. "However, my body was programmed to simulate normal human functions."

"I see," said Delia. "Well, if you don't mind, I would like to continue touching you anyway."

"What is the purpose?" asked Data.

"Although I know you can't feel anything, it still gives me pleasure to do this. For a human, touch is something we are driven to do. For someone like me, who is missing in the experience from day to day, the skin experiences an odd kind of irritation. It does itch, or tingle. It just needs. Pressing the skin relieves this tension. I want to relieve the tension in my body by exploring yours. I am also curious to observe your body's reactions to my touch."

"Very well. Continue," said Data.

Delia rubbed the point of the erect nipple and found it harder than a human nipple, more rigid. It elicited no response other physical responses from Data. She kissed the tip, then moved her lips past it and sucked the nipple. It tasted faintly of plastic.

She licked the edges of the nipple and detected a slight pebbling. Smiling, she pulled away and mumbled, "Impressive."

Next, she moved over to the other nipple and repeated the process. She took more pleasure it second time, spending less time analysing and more time feeling and enjoying the interested sounds he made.

She lowered herself down his chest, and licked a stripe from the hollow between his pecs, and down to a point just above his waistband. His polymer skin shimmered there, but tasted no different.

The next test required the removal of his pants. After requesting permission, she released the button and pulled down the zipper.

Planting her knees into the mattress beside each of his legs, she pushed his pants down, inching down his legs until she had pushed them past his knees. Then she groped his thighs and pulled them apart, allowing gravity to do the rest of the work.

Kneeling before him, with his feet under her and his raised knees in front of her, she stroked up the inside of his firm, slender thighs. Then she slid her hands down to his knees again, and pushed them down onto the bed, stretching them wide and proving his incredible flexibility.

“Mm,” she hummed in approval.

Her eyes now wandered up to the sight of his now-exposed cock.

The sight gave her pause; she had never seen a cock before, never been so intimate with someone before, and she found herself a little unprepared for it.

Two smooth, round balls sat precisely parallel on each side of the short slender shaft. She reached up to squeeze one perfectly ball, then squeezed the left. Finally, she wrapped her hand tightly around the base of the shaft and slowly moved her hand up.

When she reached the top of the shaft, she even noticed he had a foreskin which covered the head of his cock with an extra layer of metallic skin.

"Interesting…" said Delia. "So how does this work? Does your cock work like a vibrator, or is it closer to a human cock? Perhaps if I work it like this ―"

She began to pump the shaft up and down, as she would a human cock, though she was unsure how Data’s body would react to such stimulation.

Like the nipples, his cock became hard and erect. She smiled at his reaction. She had to ask, though.

"How does this part of your body work?" said Delia. "How does your cock rise? Do your balls function similarly to a human's, and if so, what's in them? Does the fluid inside replenish itself somehow?"

"My shaft itself contains two pockets within it. When the shaft is stimulated, the inner pocket fills up with liquid from my balls. At the base of my… ‘cock,’ there is a framework that, when activated, guides the shaft up in much the same manner as an erection. Once this mechanism has been activated, the outer pocket, which surrounds the inner pocket, fills with air, completing the effect of a fully erect penis. Unlike a human penis, I can control the amount of air which fills my penis, depending on the size that is required to fill the hole. Furthermore, there are heat pads that alight during the whole process, which I can also carefully control at will.

"My balls are filled with a synthetic lubricant," continued Data, "that I am capable of reproducing in my body when I use up my stores. The way that my body produces more is that the basic materials exist within each of my balls, and when they released into my shaft they combine to create more lubricant. My body than reproduces more of these raw materials and releases them into my balls. The tip releases this lubricant once my shaft is erect and is squeezed. This action creates air pressure that presses down on the inner pocket, creating enough pressure to release the liquid from the tip."

"Interesting," repeated Delia.

As Data explained, Delia continued to pump his cock until his cock was fully erect, and then squeezed the lubricant from his unsheathed cock head. Delia swiped up some of the liquid with her thumb and felt it between her thumb and index finger. The consistency was white and slid easily over her fingers; authentic enough.

She held out her digits before Data. "Can you tell what type of lubricant it is?"

Data used his senses to analyse the liquid. "Silicone based," he answered. "I suspect because latex could damage the materials that make up my genitals."

Delia withdrew her hand. "I see," she said. She replaced her fingers back onto Data's cock again, this time spreading the lube around the head and down the shaft.

Bright-green eyes watched her work, questioning yet full of silent trust, waiting to see what she would do next.

What she did next was to carefully remove the remainder of each of their clothes without getting them too wet. Then, for a moment Delia admired him stripped and wet on the bed, waiting for her.

Data took the sight of her naked body in. 

"I want to share it all with you," she said. "Not all women would share so much of themselves; indeed, I never knew I would, either, but I want you to see me. Have you ever seen a woman’s bare breasts before, Data?"

"I confess I have not," said Data. "My previous partner… wanted me to see her dressed up for me. She let me touch her, but not to see her fully bare. She only removed as much as she needed to complete the act. May I ask why some women behave this way?"

"They might think they look more alluring in sexy clothes than fully bare," suggested Delia. "Sometimes, the teasing nature of clothes keeps up a sense of mystery, of anticipation, that the full picture ruins. On the other hand, maybe she was just shy, or insecure about her own body."

"I do not think that was the case with her. She was perfectly open with me," said Data. "How strange that the very reality of a naked body should discourage feelings of attraction. It would seem that the opposite would be true."

"In many cases, it is true," said Delia. "But for some, a body alone isn't enough excitement to satisfy them. They need to be constantly teased to get the adrenaline pumping."

"That is likely. She was in security. But then, does sex also involve adrenaline?"

"Yes, Data, it does. Sex and violence, two things that require both nerve and no little physical exertion."

As if to prove her point, she slid her body up his, aligning herself until his cock to dragged slowly along the length of her labia.

"This feels good already… I’m extra sensitive here, so every drag, every movement feels… wonderful."

"What does it feel like?" asked Data.

“It feels like... ah..." She stopped when the head of his cock rested in the hollow of her entrance. "It’s difficult to describe… ah, it's like… every piece of... tingles in a different way... it’s wet... and sensitive... and ah, the pressure… it both relieves and... stimulates... builds, makes me want more..."

She rubbed her labia along his length again, then guided the tip back to her entrance again. Then she slowly allowed it to envelop him, just a little.

"You may have noticed by now that I too come with my own… lubrication. I have practiced masturbating too, just in case this should ever come up. I wanted to be ready. I have made sure to stretch myself out for you, and I think I am ready. I will take it slow…"

At this word, she began to inch herself further down onto his cock, allowing him to enter her. 

"This feels… even better… I can feel you… fill me up. Before I felt so empty. This feels like… relief… pressing into the walls of my passage, the needful... ah... sensation... that is, ah... heightened... by the lubrication..."

His cock was pliable enough to take her down the twists and turns of her vagina. With one last skittering jump forward, she was finally fully seated.

She gasped in shock at the sensation. “That,” she breathed, searching for an explanation to her reaction, “sent a shockwave through me... through my... you know..."

“I will try to be more gentle,” replied Data.

Yet it was still Delia in control as she took just a few moments to accustom herself to the sensation, and then began to rock back and forth, already barely able to stop herself from thrusting his cock harder into her.

Throbbing around him, squeezing down on him, she felt with a little thrill the liquid in him squeezing into her. She rocked harder, needing him deeper. As she moved, she tried to describe what she was feeling.

"I’m sure you… can feel me… throbbing… my muscles… contracting… around you…"

"Are you short of breath?" asked Data mildly.

"No... not quite... I… it's the sensations… difficult to describe… all my… concentration… is being drawn there… my body… my blood is… pumping away… from my brain…"

Delia’s legs spread further apart as she pounded into him, and her breasts bobbed. Data watched her cautiously, as though afraid to push into her. She worked herself over him, thrusting her hips harder and faster. Every so often, she would try to push him in even deeper with a particularly hard thrust.

"Would you like me to thrust into you?" he finally asked.

"At the moment… the need for gentleness... has faded... my body needs more… faster… harder… deeper… if I don't get it… if I go still… the feeling is… terrible. The flesh… the wetness… urge me on. So yes… fuck me, Data. I’ll tell you to… slow down if I… need you to."

Delia grabbed at his hips, encouraging him. He copied the motion, grabbing her hips hesitantly. Then he began thrusting harder and faster than she knew was even possible. She was quickly overwhelmed.

"Ah! Ah! Wait, wait, Data, stop…"

He stilled his movements completely, looking up at her concerned. She forced herself to stop, too.

"That’s too much. You overstimulated me. Build up to it."

"Understood."

This time, he built up his thrusts slowly, teasing. She ached at the drag of it. Moaning, she worked herself faster over him, and he moved to match her. "Now, that's more like it," she smiled, and steadily built up speed and rhythm so that it returned to how it was before.

"Now just a little… deeper…"

Data snapped his hips inside her, penetrating deeper, and hitting that sensitive spot.

"That… that's it… you hit the spot… keep doing that and I’ll… come soon… uh, orgasm. Watch my face. I wanna… tell me if I… make an ‘o' face…"

"An ‘o' face?" repeated Data.

"Humans talk… sometimes of a… face people make when they… come. Everyone makes one. It’s the ― ah ― it’s… ah, harder to think… ah… it's a response… physical response to… the orgasm… ah…"

Delia spread her legs just a bit further, as far as her body would allow. "I can feel it… more… when I do this…" she explained.

Data snapped his hips again, earning a particularly loud cry from her.

"Ah!" she cried. "Oh, I can feel a… not quite tingling… it is that but… more… it’s building… it’s a warm sensi―tivity… growing warmer... more intense…"

One last snap and she cried out hard, clamping down on him, her legs twitching and shaking, her hips wiggling left and right.

"Oh," she moaned.

As she recovered, her eyes eased open to look up at him.

"Are you feeling well?" 

As Data asked that, she realised she was squinting a little at him.

"I’m fine, it's just… light sensitivity. Caused by the stimulus…"

"Computer, dim lights by 20%," said Data. "Is that better?"

She smiled. “Thank you, Data,” she said. “Yes, that’s better."

"An interesting reaction," Data noted. "Is it a typical result of this type of stimulus?"

"Sometimes."

“By the way, you did make the ‘o’ face,” said Data.

She collapsed on his chest in a fit of giggles.

***

"Tell me about your creator, Data," said Delia. "I have long been curious about you… specifically why he created you to look as you do."

After they had both gotten cleaned up and dressed, Delia asked Data to stay and talk to her while she packed. She already knew she was going to miss him, and wanted to hold onto him for as long as possible.

"Dr Noonian Soong created me in his image," said Data.

"Like God."

"God?"

"Some primitive cultures believe in a God. In the Christian religion of Earth, for example, humans used to believe that God created man in his image. So it seems fitting that when man created android, he should do the same thing."

"I do not believe Dr Soong was a Christian. But I see your point. Do you find it disturbing?" asked Data. "To know that, certain human-like qualities aside, I look exactly like a young Noonian Soong?"

"You’re not Noonian Soong, Data," said Delia. "You’re Data, and I love you. I’m not seeing him when I look at you."

Delia’s door chime rang. “Come in,” she said.

"Am I… disturbing something?" asked La Forge, as he tentatively crossed the threshold into the room.

“Not at all,” said Delia. “Data was simply talking to me while I pack. I’m told we’re not far from Rigel IV."

“It’ll still be a few hours until we reach it,” said La Forge. “The captain has meanwhile asked for Data’s presence on the bridge. He sent me here to fetch him."

He spoke hesitantly, as though he read tension in the room. Maybe he did.

“Ah,” said Delia, looking to Data. “I suppose our time is cut short. You’d better report to the bridge. I’ll be fine here."

Data almost seemed reluctant to leave.

La Forge looked between them. "Sorry about this, Data. It seemed like the two of you were getting… cozy."

Data looked at La Forge. "Query: … ‘cozy’?"

"Well, Data, I just mean you and Dr Hardeck look like you have gotten… especially close recently."

Data looked with confusion between La Forge and Delia. But before he could say anything, Delia said, “Ah, don’t answer that, Data. Just go attend to your duties. I’ll be fine here,” said Delia.

“If you are sure,” said Data, and left the room with La Forge.

As she was left alone in the room to pack, so looked around the empty room. Is this what it was going to feel like when she left Data behind? Empty?

She was mature enough to endure this feeling, to stay strictly business, but she’d be lying if she said this newfound solitude didn’t make her stricken. That had never happened before, but now an android was making her feel things for once, was splitting open her emotions.

There were few places she had ever considered home, that she truly dreaded leaving. She began to that this was one of them.

So, what was it that was going on between them? Certainly they had recently established a sexual relationship. But what was this thing she was feeling? Was it platonic, or romantic?

They certainly had been friends up to this point. If that’s all this was, she could live with that.

But she could just imagine La Forge’s smug voice now, if he ever found out:

"You and Dr Hardeck are basically… fuck buddies!"

She could just imagine Data furrowing his brows and asking him for clarification. And then he’d explain and, oh! She couldn’t think about that.

But if it was romantic... what was she going to do, then? Even if it was love, she couldn’t stay aboard the Enterprise. She had a job to do, and she couldn’t sacrifice it for anything. Not even this. If it truly was love... then this emptiness might ruin her.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to focus on packing. She could talk to Data about this later. Hopefully.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia has a run-in with La Forge and Riker about her relationship with Data, and her past is brought up.

Once she’d finished packing up both her room and her lab, she went looking for Data.

First, she took the turbolift up to the Main Bridge. However, once she got there and stepped into the room, she couldn’t spot him.

Picard caught sight of her and turned towards her. “What are you doing on the Bridge, Dr Hardeck?"

“I was looking for Data. The computer said he was here."

“I’m afraid you just missed him. I just sent him down to Engineering."

“Right,” said Delia. She thought better than to ask why, re-entered the turbolift, and said, "Engineering."

When she arrived, she found Data and La Forge arguing while they worked.

"...I have been questioning the nature of my own existence as of late. She has a great number of interesting perspectives, and it has called into question my ideas of who I am."

Delia realised they were talking about her, and decided to hang back and listen.

"Data… I’m worried about you, okay? I think she’s been manipulating you, taking advantage of you."

"You do not need to worry," said Data. "She is not. There is nothing to take advantage of. She treats me much as you do, meaning she treats me no different than any human."

"The problem is, I just don't think that's true. Her interest in you began because you are not human. She is taking advantage of your naiveté about human relationships."

"What would the purpose of such a lie be?" said Data.

"I don't know, Data… I just think it seems like she’s using you. That’s all."

"May I have a chance to say something?" said Delia.

La Forge turned to her in surprise. “Hardeck. I didn’t see you there."

“Clearly."

"Then you heard all that?"

"Yes."

“Then maybe you can explain what you’re doing with Data."

"I’m not taking advantage of him any more than you are. If you have a problem with me, why don’t you just spit it out?"

“Alright, maybe I will. You know, at first I thought you were alright, I thought you were good for Data, you know? I saw how you got along in Ten Forward, how you listened to him. I may not have understood you, but at least you had a soft side to you."

"And now?"

“And now,” sighed Geordi, “I see you for what you are. See, me, Data, and even Barclay, we’re not like you. My VISOR, Data’s android body, Barclay’s holodiction, they’re all alternatives to what you are ―"

Delia sighed. "If you are referring to what I think you are, the rumours of my Augmentation have been greatly exaggerated."

“Perhaps you’re not an Augment,” said La Forge. “But you’re as good as an one."

“I’ve heard that one before,” said Delia. 

“Did you ever think that might be because it’s true?” suggested La Forge.

“Many times. But it’s not,” said Delia. "I didn’t manipulate my genetics, nor did my family. They were too afraid to."

“But you’re not, right?"

“I don’t possess the Khan-ish ambition you’re ascribing to me. But I don’t shun ambition either, as long as it doesn’t hurt anybody. I got to where I am because I earned my place, just like you. I deserve to be here; I didn’t cheat. I don’t manipulate code, or genetics, or people. I certainly wouldn’t manipulate your best friend. Our relationship is unique and genuine. And I don’t deserve to stand here and be insulted by you, or anyone who came before you."

“Then this is not the first time you have been accused of this?” asked La Forge.

“No. I’ve spent a lifetime discriminated against for this. My condition is one that offers both advantages and disadvantages. Ever since the Eugenics Wars, such conditions have faced similar discrimination; people are afraid that such people are the biggest danger of becoming an Augment, a situation they want to avoid at all costs."

“Because it might start another Eugenics war,” said La Forge.

“Exactly. But in doing so, they only provide extra incentive to create Augments. They create obstacles to opportunities such as the one I hold because of nothing more than suspicion. We have created a society which restricts disadvantaged children because of what they might become. Some parents break the law in order to give their children those opportunities, but mine didn’t. Everything I have, I had to earn, with no help from anyone but myself. We are not Augments, and we don’t deserve to be treated like one."

“So that’s why you don’t try to socialise with anyone but Data. You’ve learned to distrust your fellow humans, but Data’s also a product of Dr Noonien Soong ― I’m not sure if you know this Data, but it was your grandfather, also called Noonien Soong, who got involved in creating Augments."

“I don’t like Data just for that,” said Delia. “Although, perhaps there is an unconscious connection there. I like Data, though, for who and what he is."

“So what exactly is this relationship between you?" asked La Forge.

“That’s exactly what I hoped I might be able to discuss with Data, if he’s free. There isn’t really much time we have left together, but the very least we could do is figure it out."

“Unfortunately, he isn’t available now. The Enterprise found a distress beacon, and we are currently studying its contents."

A note of panic ran through Delia, and she stormed around the console to look over Data’s shoulder at the monitor. “Is something happening on Rigel IV?"

“That is what we are attempting to determine," said Data. “The beacon contains a warning message that we have just extracted and are now studying."

“Well, what does it say?"

“The message is hidden in computer code. I am currently translating it."

Delia gave him a small smile.

La Forge stared for a moment at the two of them. “You really love him, don’t you?"

Embarrassed, Delia took one look at him and moved back around the console. She cleared her throat, looking around at her surrounds.

“Data, we will talk, right? Meet me in my quarters when we’re done here?"

Data opened his mouth to respond.

“Alright, great. See you then."

She rushed from the room, blushing.

***

As Delia walked down hallways, she wondered if she was just imagining the eyes on her.

Soon, she was sure: she was being stared at.

It was that argument in Main Engineering, she was sure of it. La Forge’s initial question regarding her love life... it was already spreading, it was already spreading, she could feel it.

Damn him. Even after all her precautions, it was all slipping away... she still had to endure the cruel and condescending looks and chatter that was soon to come her way.

Just as they had before, just for who she was.

She had almost made it to her quarters when Riker blocked her way to the door.

She rolled her eyes, hoping vainly word hadn’t reached him yet, and said, “Move, Riker."

“Not until you talk to me,” he said. “What’s going on between you and Data?"

She closed her eyes and sighed, trapped. “What have you heard?"

“Well, look at me, at least."

With another sigh, she opened her eyes and forced them to look at Riker's.

"I don't know how to explain," said Delia. "But in my experience, nothing I say ever convinces anyone anyway, so I won’t bother. Our relationship, however you might class it, can't hurt Data. And whether it hurts me is none of your concern, since we aren't friends. So I really don't see why this is a problem for you."

"It’s a problem for me because I think you're confused ―"

Delia turned her head away, laughing bitterly.

"―you don't know how love works ―"

"Oh, and you do!" snapped Delia.

"A little more than you do, I’d say."

"Well, if your moral outrage is your only issue with this, I’d say you ought to stick your nose out of other people's business. Moral outrage was supposed to have died with homophobia ―"

"No, that is not the same thing ―"

"I think it is," said Delia. "And the sooner you recognise it, the better off we’ll all be."

"Look," said Riker, "I’m as good a sport as anyone can be regarding what is to be done when a relationship fails. I try to keep an open mind and respect others. What I’m trying to tell you, is that those feelings you have for someone when you leave a relationship don't go away over time, that however civil and respectful you are towards them, you're always going to think about what could be. I can see that maybe we have this thing in common; no matter how much we may love someone and how much it hurts, we will always choose our careers over our love lives. All I’m trying to tell you is that repressing your emotions doesn't work. I like to think we’re evolved enough ―"

"Evolved," said Delia.

"Yes, evolved! We evolve, you know! I never said that we’ve stopped, that we’re perfect, because we’re not! But you have to admit you're not the same person you were as a child. And we humans aren't the same as when we first discovered fire."

She had to concede the point.

"We change, we grow, all the time. But there are some things we cannot change. You want me to apologise for the bullies of your youth? I can't, because I wasn't one of them, I wasn't responsible for their behaviour, and I wasn't involved in any of it at all. If I had, I’m sure I would've stood up for you."

"You say that," said Delia. "But you can't know that. You might've shared their ignorance. You might've joined in."

"Perhaps, but I wasn't there, so we’ll never know," said Riker. "All I can say now is that I don't hate you, and I want to help. I’ve heard that you and Data are having a rough patch, that you ―"

“We’re not in a relationship,” said Delia. “I’m just passing through."

“You may be able to sell Data that story, but not me. You like him, don’t you?"

“Don’t you mock me!”

“I’m not mocking you, I think it’s great!"

"You do?” Delia asked flatly.

“Yeah. Of course, it requires being more honest with him. And ―"

“Staying on the Enterprise?"

“I didn’t say that,” said Riker. “Planning for a future, maybe."

Delia relaxed her shoulders, breathing out. A few quips ran through her mind, but she said none of them. Instead, she admitted, “We haven’t even discussed what we are to each other yet, let alone planned for a future. I’ve asked him to meet me in my quarters to discuss it. So if you wouldn’t mind...” She tried to slip past him again.

And again, he blocked her. "You don't truly believe you love Data, do you? That you're in love with him?"

Delia looked up at him, defeated. “Weren’t you the one encouraging me to be with him?” she snapped. "What do you want from me, Riker? To admit to you the true depths of my patheticness? To reveal the emptiness of my soul, the shallowness of my heart, or perhaps, the brokenness? Do you want me to tell you all my embarrassing secrets, all the dirt, everything that I’ve been told makes me less human?"

“Who told you that?"

“Everyone who ever looked at me as a freak of nature. As different."

“But humans have long put aside their prejudices."

“It’s easy to pretend that. You look around and see paradise, and don’t want to admit you’re not as evolved as you think you are. It’s a tradition that goes back to the Victorian days, when humanity thought it had reached the pinnacle of human evolution. That there was no more evolving to do."

“But that was 500 years ago. We’ve changed a lot since then."

“Yes, we have. We have improved things for a lot of people. But our evolution hasn't ended yet. Or do you think it has?"

“Why don’t you get to the point? Who have we left behind?"

“There are people we’ve left behind in the Eugenics wars ―"

"You don’t mean Augments? But they’re dangerous!"

"No," said Delia. “I’m referring to a group of people that are the most vulnerable. I was one. I entered the welfare system as one when I came of age, and had to find my place in the world while on all sides I was reviled as though I were an Augment."

"But you found your place."

“I did. But not before I learned to hate the world, or to hide from it. I have read women with my condition have a better time doing that."

“Your condition?"

“That is between me, Counselor Troi, and to be honest, Data. Now, I won’t ask you again..."

“Now look, I didn’t just come down here for the sake of it, Deanna thought ―"

“Oh, ‘Deanna thought’, did she? I’ve had enough of this. What makes either one of you feel you’re entitled to my life?" shot Delia, and pushed Riker aside. 

She ran into her room and locked the door.

***

Delia was allowed about half an hour of peace in her packed up room before the door chime rang.

“Go away, Riker!"

“It is Data,” came the gentle lilt of his voice on the other side.

"Oh! Data. Please come in."

“You have locked the door."

“Oh! Sorry..." She quickly got up to let him in. “Sorry,” she repeated. “Riker came by either and... I won’t talk about it. Come in, sit down..."

He did so, in his particular stiff fashion. She followed and sat next to him on the couch.

“Well, I’m all packed, ready to go at any second,” began Delia.

"It will likely be another hour until we reach our destination."

“Good to know..." said Delia. “Data... I need to talk about this thing that has developed between us... Because I don’t know if we’re still just friends, or romantic partners, or fuck buddies..."

“Query: ‘fuck buddies'?"

Delia smirked. "Um... friends who sometimes relieve tension by having sex, without the need for extra attachments."

“Does sex relieve tension?"

“Sometimes. It can relieve sexual tension between people in some cases, which is to say, a tension that builds up in people who are attracted to each other. Like how you found me in the holodeck. It can sometimes also relieve stress in general."

“I see. But I did not get the impression that you had no extra feelings for me, so we cannot be fuck buddies."

“Hm. Pretty hard to get away from that one. I did confess my feelings for you in a pretty undeniable way. The problem is, how do I love you? I know I love differently to most people. I don’t have any interest for mushy romance, for example. I won’t stare lovingly into your eyes, and I don’t believe in eternal, infallible, pure love. Most people I know wouldn't say that’s real love. But I feel as deeply as anyone can be expected to feel. My love is genuine, and kind. I feel a love for you, Data, that makes me dread being separated from you. I wouldn’t die for you, but I would fight for you.

"I have always placed my career ahead of my relationships, what few I’ve had, but you’re the first that has tempted me to want to... not give up the relationship. I just don’t know how to do that."

"Perhaps a long-distance relationship,” suggested Data.

“It would at least allow us to stay in touch, to continue our conversations. But I would still miss touching you."

“It may be quite a while until we meet in person again. But perhaps it will be worth the wait."

“I have no problem waiting, Data; I’ve waited this long. I just don’t like it."

“The only other option is for you to give up your career and remain on the Enterprise..."

“Which is no option at all..." said Delia.

“...as my wife."

Delia froze, her eyes bugging out at the suggestion. “Your wife?” she repeated. “No, no, there’s no way I could do that. No way... marriage is a big step, a huge step, and I’ve never much liked the idea of it. No, to marry someone, I’d need to love them wholeheartedly, to know them, to be absolutely sure. And I’m not, Data, I’m just not..."

“I understand,” said Data. “I respect your choice. Whatever way you love me, I also respect that. However, given the scandal that has been created, I think it is best to just be honest and tell the others ―"

“No, absolutely not. Don’t tell anyone. Ever."

"But surely under these circumstances―"

"Under no circumstances!" shot Delia.

"Are you ashamed of me?" asked Data, as calmly as if he was simply asking after the conditions of space ahead of the ship.

"Never," said Delia. "But they'll think ― well, exactly what your friend Geordi thought. That you're just an android, and therefore an object. That because of that, I must be using you. That I’m greedy, sad, or pathetic. That our relationship is lesser because you're not human."

"That is ―" began Data.

"Not true?” asked Delia. “Are you going to say your friends respect you as though you were human?"

“Well ― yes,” said Data.

“Then why do they all seem to be so conscious of the fact that your body is different? Why are they disturbed when they are reminded that you’re not human like them? I may not have been here long, but I’ve seen it. Little windows into their interactions with you. If they love you so much, surely they should love you as you are? You try so hard to be human. Why, for their sake? I don’t understand it..."

"I do not seek to be human for their sake. It is simply what I wish to be. I owe much to the humans that rescued me, and I have come to realise that humans possess many experiences that I do not. I wish to be human, perhaps, because of my function on gathering data, with them as my subjects. However, I prefer to think of myself as more than the sum of my parts. I choose to believe that my desire to be human stems from the simple fact that most of my friends are humans, and I simply wish to be closer to them. Would not you do the same for your friends?"

She looked at Data. She had intended to see the world more objectively, through his eyes. She supposed she still hadn't. 

“I suppose I would," answered Delia.

Perhaps it was her fault for not listening. Even as a scientist, she had failed to detach her emotions from her task of observing and learning from Data. She had thought too much of herself.

She would strive to fix that.

“When we arrive at Rigel IV,” said Data, changing the subject, "there will be a security risk to investigate. I successfully decoded the message, and it contained a warning. The lab that you are headed towards has been attacked. If so, then we will have to send down an away team ahead of you to affirm the damage. If it is too extensive, you will not be allowed to beam down..."

“This is pretty suspicious,” said Delia. “It’s as though someone’s trying to block my discovery. As though someone is hiding the truth. Another thing I’m willing to fight for. If they think I won’t... they’ve picked the wrong xenopaleontologist to mess with."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia's destination on Rigel IV is destroyed, a conspiracy uncovered, and Data is attacked.

After the initial scan for life signs at Delia’s destination on the planet, an away team was sent down to the lab on the surface, which should have been the end to Delia’s journey.  
The data salvaged from the trip were sent from the lab’s computers to Main Engineering, where Delia soon found herself with Barclay receiving and decoding it.  
Delia didn’t know much about decoding, which was why Barclay was here. Barclay decoded the data and Delia interpreted it.  
“Well, this is interesting,” said Delia, as she perused a particular data log. “You said that Data found this deep within the system?"  
"Yes,” said Barclay. “So deep that few others would have even been able to find it."  
“Well, I can solve the mystery of who could’ve written it and buried it in the system right off the bat for you,” said Delia. “It was a Grey Orion. Technology is their specialty, so it seems likely no one else could’ve achieved as much."  
“What about the Rigellians?” asked Barclay.   
“I had wondered,” said Delia, “but no. The Rigellians have no reason to hide a secret message in their own system, and besides,” she smiled, “I doubt the Rigellians would’ve said something like this."  
“Said what?"  
“This is secret information, Barclay. The Rigellians are a very secretive race, even keeping secrets of the Orions’ past from the Orions."  
“Is it about that?"  
“No,” said Delia. “This is information from the Rigellians’ own history. About the history of Rigel IV. How well do you know Rigellian history, Barclay?"  
“Fairly well."  
“Do you know about the Masters?"  
"Masters?"  
“The were an ancient race consumed with pride. They also were abusers of genetic engineering, engineering not only animals such as what we now know of the Rigellians, but also stars and planets. The Rigellians hate them, and erased every possible trace of them from history."  
“Is this why you’ve come to Rigel? To uncover the truth?” asked Barclay.  
“Rigel is an ancient star system, filled with mysteries. Admittedly, when the rock samples from Rigel IV first came to the Saratoga, they weren’t my first priority. But when I saw there was life in them, when it had been long established that none had existed prior to the Rigellians paving the planet over, I had to get at the truth. But I never would’ve expected this..."  
“What is it?" asked Barclay.  
“A conspiracy,” said Delia, “going right back to the Rigellians. They knew... they knew what they were doing when they paved it over. Perhaps they were hiding some secret about the Masters... Either way, this account by a Grey Orion claims that a conversation between a Ruddy Orion and a Rigellian revealed their intention to block my research by blowing up the lab... and that they both had secrets to protect..."  
She looked up in awe at Barclay, who stared back.  
“And this Grey Orion..."  
"The Grey Orions are slaves to the Ruddy Orions, after losing a war to them long ago. The Ruddy Orions keep them dependant as slaves by mutating them. My guess is that this Grey Orion is doing any covert action they can to resist."  
“So they hid this message in the hopes that you’d receive it."  
“Exactly,” she said. “My guess is that the other information that Data sent up to us is further information that could aid me in my research. If the Rigellians think they can hide their secrets from me, they are messing with the wrong xenopaleontologist!"  
The look Barclay gave at her outburst was all too familiar; how often had that same look been reflected in her eyes in the past?  
“You have questions,” she said. “Or one, at least. What is it?"  
Barclay hesitated, unsure where to start. Patiently, she waited for him to talk.  
“You have some... sort of history with this? Or-or at least, something like it."  
If he was anyone else, she might have told him to shove it. But there was something about Barclay, a feeling that of all people, he might understand.  
“As you know, since the Eugenics Wars on Earth, there have been strict laws restricting Augmentation, and what Augments are allowed to do. But there’s also a huge stigma against those born with bad eugenics, people like me. I was born with Autism, and since then, I was treated as a second-class citizen. People, in my experience, tend to assume that people with bad eugenics like me, are a danger for breaking the law to get Augmentation done, so they treated me as if I already had. That meant restrictions to employment, especially in Starfleet. It meant people pre-judging me, making me out to be cold or robotic. It meant being passed into a welfare system that passed me over again and again.  
“I had to constantly prove that I wasn’t an Augment to get where I am now. It was hard work, and I had to be on constant alert to conform, to not let my eyes wander, to not wave my hands, to not express my passions too strongly. You adapt.   
"I don’t suppose you understand what that kind of life is like, but I think you do understand discrimination. Has anyone ever tried to hold you back for your social anxiety?"  
“It was a struggle," Barclay admitted. “I had to work hard just to be taken seriously. I had to claw my way up from a cadet before my achievements were recognised. But you’re right. I have no idea of the kinds of struggles you had to endure."  
“I don’t think even Data would understand this. I sometimes wonder what the difference between us is. The senior staff love him, whereas they seem to barely tolerate us. Sometimes I wonder... apart from Data’s special abilities, how’s he different to us? He’s curious about humanity, so maybe that curiosity strokes their egos. Or maybe they simply view him as a useful tool. If that’s the case, I can’t forgive them for that. Maybe he simply behaves more normally than us; he’s simply more able to copy so-called ordinary human behaviour.  
"No matter how they may claim to love him, they don’t seem to listen to him, or appreciate him. It feels more like they mock him for being different. And what’s worse is that he doesn’t even seem to understand enough about humanity to recognise it."  
"I-I... I think you’re wrong."

“Oh?” asked Delia.

“I genuinely think they do love Data, and not just because he’s some tool. He’s their friend. I don’t know what it is, what he’s doing right that we aren’t... maybe he just isn’t burdened with the kinds of problems we are."

“No, he just has other problems. Better problems,” replied Delia. “More socially-acceptable problems."

“Here’s to better problems,” said Barclay.

Smiling, Delia turned back to her work.

***

"Commander Riker to Dr Hardeck."

Delia pressed her com badge. “Dr Hardeck here."

“You may want to come to Sick Bay. It’s Data."

“I’m on my way."

She tapped the com channel off again. “Shit. Barclay, keep working. Don’t call me unless it’s urgent. I have to go."

Immediately rushing from the room, she made her way to the nearest turbolift and then up to Sick Bay.

When she reached Sick Bay, her heart squeezed in horror to see Data lying on one of the beds, twisted metal and cut circuits sticking out from his belly.

"Data!" she cried, rushing to his side.

He looked dead. His eyes were lifeless, his body limp and unmoving. She held his hand anyway, in a desperate attempt to feel closer to him.

“What happened?" she demanded, looking up to see not Dr Crusher but Lieutenant La Forge standing on Data’s other side.

Of course, she thought. La Forge knows more about repairing technology than Dr Crusher does.

“He was attacked,” said Riker, and Delia turned her head to find him leaning next to the doorway. She must’ve passed him as she came in. “It was dark, we didn’t see who it was."

She almost asked why it was dark, but of course it was; it had just been exploded, so a few out lights weren’t all that surprising.

Anyway, even if they didn’t know who it was, she suspected there was only a limited pool of what it was.

Instead, she asked La Forge, “Can you repair him?"

“It won’t be easy, and it’ll take some time...” said La Forge, and looked down at his friend. “But yes, I think so. I have all the parts I need for the work. I just have to send for them in Engineering."

“Good,” said Delia. “The main thing is bringing him back online. If he was attacked because of me..."

“You can’t possibly blame yourself for this?" asked La Forge.

“I can and I do,” said Delia. “I have just read some intelligence that Data sent up before he was injured. This is all my fault. The lab blew up because I was coming to research there. Data was injured because he was helping me uncover the truth. Perhaps his attacker even knew what he was to me..."

“And what was that?" asked La Forge.

Delia remained silent.

“Look, he was my friend, too ―"

“Whatever reason he had, this attacker, he can’t have known your personal connection to Data. Perhaps it was all an unfortunate incident,” said Riker.

“Perhaps,” said Delia. “But you don’t have all the information yet. And neither do I; Barclay and I are still going through it all."

“We’ll have to have a meeting about that,” said Riker. “Once you have gathered the rest of the information."

Delia looked down at Data again. It felt wrong to leave him now. It made her feel restless and tense.

“I’m sorry, Hardeck. But the best you can do for him now is solve the mystery."

“It doesn’t make it any easier."

Reluctantly, she dropped her hand from Data’s and left the room.

Her feet dragged as she slowly returned to Engineering, her thoughts too full to focus much on what she was meant to be doing.

Eventually, she forced herself to pick up the pace, remembering where she was going and why. She forced herself to focus.

Barclay was surprised to see her back so soon.

“He’s alright?"

“No...” said Delia, unable to keep the despair from her voice. “But as Sherlock Holmes once said, ‘Work is the best antidote to sorrow’."

“If that’s true, he must’ve been a sad man,” commented Barclay.

Delia thought of all the theories she held about Holmes, the world he lived in, and the love she believed he was forced to keep hidden. But all she said was, “Yes. I believe he was."

Then Delia moved to the console. “The only way to help him now is to figure out what happened to him. Let’s get to work."

***

The tension in Delia’s muscles tightened every time she thought of Data’s uncertain condition. She just had to trust in La Forge’s ability to bring him back, she reminded herself often. She just had to rely on him...

But the more she thought about it, the tenser she got, the more restless her body became.

It was a tension far worse than that between her and Data when he was still alive ― no, don’t say that, he can still be brought back ― or the constant danger of losing her work or her life to a random attack to the ship.

She rubbed her hands on her pants, in an attempts to prevent flapping them around like a bird. She had worked too hard to reveal herself now...

Keep calm. He’ll be fine. He’ll be...

She closed her eyes then took a few deep breaths. She opened them.

Checking their progress, she announced, “I’m going to take a short break. I’ll be right back."

“Where are you going?"

“To check on Data."

She left for Sick Bay, and walked in to find La Forge still at Data’s side, a toolbox beside him. He was now working hard not on Data’s belly, which was closed up and looking well, but on Data’s head, where he had opened flaps to expose the circuitry beneath.

Riker still stood by the door. “How is he?” she asked.

“Geordi’s fixed most of the damage,” Riker responded. “Now he’s just trying to bring Data back online. He doesn’t know if he’ll be fully intact when he comes around, which is what he’s working on now."

“Bringing him back intact,” Delia completed the thought.

"Exactly."

“But how will he know?"

“He’ll just have to make his best guess,” suggested Riker. “I doubt there’s anything about Data his best friend doesn’t know, anyway."

“Very little, probably,” said Delia.

“So how’s your work going?” he asked. “Solved the mystery yet?"

“We’re getting there,” said Delia. “I think we’re making great progress. But I just got so worried about Data that I had to come up here to check on him. I just couldn’t focus anymore until I did."

“That’s what I like about you, Hardeck. You’re just as serious about your work as I am, but you also care about Data as much as I do."

"More."

"Sorry?"

“I’m more serious about my job than you are."

Riker laughed. “Yes, I’ll buy that. But you care about Data even more than your work, too, I can tell."

Certainly, the evidence of her presence there certainly proved Riker’s point.

“So I’ve got you beaten on both counts."

“It’s not a competition,” he said, smiling.

"Sure?"

Despite her banter, she still wondered. Data and her work were very much wrapped up in each other; one of those things that La Forge was working to save was Data’s current record of her work.

However, there was more to her concern. Data’s uniqueness, his memories of her, and especially one in particular... were on the line, too.

“It’s strange, seeing him like this,” said Riker.

"Hm?"

“All those exposed circuits,” said Riker. "Are you not put off by them?"

"Does it bother you?" Delia  
asked. "To see proof that he’s not really human, despite your previous interactions with him? Does it shake you, disturb you, unnerve you, to truly know he’s a little different? I accept him exactly the way he is. Do you?"

“I'm well aware that Data is an android."

“Oh sure, you’re aware of it,” said Delia. “But is that how you see him?"

“To be honest... I like to think there’s something a little human about him."

"That’s where you and I are different, Riker,” said Delia. “I know well what he is. I know he isn’t human. I don’t have to see the evidence of it to be conscious of it. Those circuits, those electrical signals and computational algorithms, translate to a different way of thinking, of being. Unlike most people, I don’t see his way of thinking as not human enough. I like him already, as he is. If he chooses to make himself more human, I won’t begrudge him that. But I like him either way."

“You two were made for each other,” said Riker.

“I wasn’t made; I was born."

“Well, yes, but..."

Riker turned back to watch La Forge work again.

As Delia turned to do the same, it struck her just how ignorant she was on Data’s operations. Although she respected Data as a life form, her specialty was generally biological life forms. She could tell you, for example, each bone joint in a Barzanichus down to the tiniest details, as well as the structure of their cardiovascular, respiratory, and nervous systems. But as she stared at La Forge adjusting Data's circuitry, she realised she had know idea what he was doing.

This was the role La Forge played for him. It was a special point of connection they shared that she didn't. It occurred to her now that if Data's life were on the line and he had to rely on her to maintain him, he would not make it. It made her feel extremely helpless.

Finally, La Forge closed up Data. “Data?” he asked.

Data opened his eyes, and Delia breathed a sigh of relief as Data sat up on the bed.

“Are you okay, Data?” asked La Forge.

“Yes, Geordi,” he said, looking from Delia to La Forge, “I am."

“What do you remember before waking up just now?"

“I... was in the lab on Rigel IV. It was dark, I had accessed their computers, and was rapidly mining them for information and sending that information to the Enterprise. There were shots. A Rigellian shot me, and I fell."

"A Rigellian?” said Riker. “Are you sure?"

Data looked at Riker. “Yes,” he said. “I saw his face by the light of his phaser fire."

“I may have further information on that at the meeting,” said Delia. “But you’ll have to allow me and Barclay to finish collecting the data."

“How long will that take?” asked Riker.

“Probably another 40 minutes?"

“I can do it quicker,” said Data.

“Data, are you sure?” Delia asked, beating Riker to the punch. “You just recovered from being shot."

“I am perfectly sound now, Doctor. I can do it."

Delia looked to La Forge.

“I will have to check him over, but he’s probably right."

“My body is fully functional ―"

“But I’m not sure about your memory,” said La Forge. “It got a bit fried in the injury."

“Very well."

“I’ll send him down in a few moments if he checks out,” said La Forge.

“In the meantime, you should go back down to Engineering and continue your work,” suggested Riker.

Delia looked to Data.

“I will be fine,” he assured her.

She smiled a little. “See you down there..."

This time she left Sick Bay with a lighter step. She could breathe now. She could let go of the tension. She had to stop herself from skipping or running or giggling down the hall.

It was reassuring to know that no matter how damaged Data got, he didn’t have to die, so long as all his pieces were gathered. It would hurt her, she would become so frightened each time, but she would survive it.

That was assuming they had a future.

When she returned to Engineering, she told Barclay the good news, and then went back to work.

When Data made it down to Engineering, Delia watched him with relief as he scanned the remaining documents at superhuman speeds and translated them.

Delia had only eyes for him. He really was amazing. It was so great to see him up and about again.

While she was admiring him, Data sent a newly translated file to her monitor.

For a moment, Data stopped working, as he noticed Delia staring. “Is something wrong, Delia?"

“No, nothing is wrong,” she answered. “You’re just incredible, that’s all..."

Behind Data, Barclay fidgeted, avoiding their eyes and looking embarrassed. “Sorry, Barclay. Data will take over from here. You should probably report to your superior for another task. But... perhaps you should make it to meeting later. We could use your support to present our findings. You shouldn’t have to talk too much."

Data looked over his shoulder at Barclay, who simply shrugged, nodded, and then left.

Delia and Data turned back to their work and continued.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A solution is reached, a mission started, and Delia parts ways with Data.

Barclay did make it to the meeting, but looked thoroughly uncomfortable as he sat between Data and Delia at one end of the table.

At the other end of the table sat Picard, Riker, Worf, La Forge, and Troi.

Once Picard commenced the meeting, Data presented the intel.

First he summarised the warning beacon which, he suspected, had come from an unknown Grey Orion. Then he presented the information that he had dug up from the depths of the computer from the lab on the planet and what it meant, also planted by the mysterious Grey Orion.

He explained the theory, formed by the team he represented (himself, Delia and Barclay), that included the secret held by the Rigellians and kept by at least one Ruddy Orion, and how far the Rigellians were willing to go to keep it.

“Are you telling me that Dr Hardeck’s research is being blocked by this Rigellian attacker?"

“That is what the evidence seems to suggest, sir."

“For what reason?” asked Riker.

“We don’t have enough evidence to know for sure,” said Delia, “but if I were to venture a guess, I would suggest that the Rigellians are hiding certain truths about the prehistory of Rigel IV that my research would bring to light."

“What truths?” asked Picard.

“Truths, for example, such as that Rigel IV wasn’t completely devoid of life when it was paved over. That that was done in order to hide some history of the Masters."

"Masters?"

“Genetic engineers of the Rigellians, as well as the Rigel sun and planets."

“The Rigellians are particularly well-known for their hatred of the Masters, who genetically engineered and accelerated the evolution of the Rigellians," said Data. “They are also known for erasing all trace of the Masters’ legacy, so it is at least plausible that Dr Hardeck's theory is true."

"The question is, what could they be hiding?" Riker said.

“Based on what I hear from Data about Dr Hardeck’s research, the Rigellians only appear to have hidden the fact that Rigel IV contained life on it in some form when they paved it all over. There doesn’t seem to be sufficient evidence for anything more than that," said La Forge.

“If you look at my research alone, you would certainly be justified in saying that,” said Delia. “But I’m a xenopaleontologist, so my research has a specific focus on ancient life. However, if you take my research together with Commander Data’s intel from the planet, a new picture starts to form."

“Even if all the Rigellians did was pave over a planet that still had life living on it, that would still be enough for Starfleet to bring charges against them,” said Picard. "No matter what their position in the Federation is." 

“There is sufficient evidence for at least that much,” said Delia. “However, I do find their behaviour quite suspicious if that’s all it is. After all, this is a race well known for keeping secrets. I don’t know what they’re hiding, reminders of the Masters was simply my best guess. It could be anything. But I am convinced there’s something there."

“Dr Hardeck, this is a diplomatic situation. It would not do to go around pointing the finger. Rigellians are, after all, one of the earliest races in the Federation,” said Picard.

“Well,” said Delia, "it couldn’t hurt to investigate the situation, could it?"

“It is not my jurisdiction to investigate this matter,” argued Picard.

“Then send me down instead."

“That isn’t your jurisdiction, either!” said Riker.

“It is far too dangerous down there for you alone,” added Worf. “You would need a security contingent."

“Which I’m not willing to spare,” said Picard.

“Please,” said Delia. “Your mission was to transport me to Rigel IV. You have done that. You could drop me off at the Earth embassy, if nothing. I’ll contact the Federation from there, arrange another ship to pick me up and rendezvous with the Saratoga."

“We can take you to the Saratoga,” said Picard.

“But on the planet, I can investigate and report my findings to the correct authorities."

“I don’t think that’s appropriate."

“But it is necessary,” said Delia. “We need more data in order to solve this mystery ―"

“I never asked you to put your life in danger,” said Riker. “I don’t think it’s necessary."

“Number One?"

“But it is necessary,” said Delia. “It’s like you said. This is bigger than me. I am a scientist, it is my job to seek out the truth, no matter where it may hide. I would stake my life on it ―"

“But there’s no need! You have nothing to gain."

“I have everything to gain! The pursuit of knowledge is as noble a pursuit as any, and the benefits of it lie in everything. And if there’s no one else willing to do this work, then I consider it my duty ―"

"For god’s sake, you saw what happened to Data when he was attacked! What do you think would happen to you if you try to step foot into that lab?"

“Number One, explain this immediately!” demanded Picard.

“Captain, while La Forge was still repairing Data, I called Dr Hardeck up to Sick Bay to inform her of what was happening. Then I sent her away to study the data that Data had sent up from the lab. It seemed too urgent to wait. But now, it seems, Hardeck has taken the words I said to her in that moment to heart..."

“My first responsibility is to duty,” said Delia. “You reminded me of that. And my first duty is to seek out the truth. If there is some sort of conspiracy afoot, it is my duty to seek it out, to unravel it."

"’Afoot’?” said Riker.

“She is a fan of Sherlock Holmes,” said Data.

“Like you, Data."

“Permission to accompany Dr Hardeck in her investigation,” said Data.

“Can’t resist that mystery, can you?” Riker smirked at Data.

“Permission denied," said Picard. "I need you here on this ship. And besides,” he said, “If Dr Hardeck were to go undercover on Rigel IV, you would no doubt give her away."

“Then is my mission approved?” asked Delia.

Picard hesitated. “You are a scientist, not a spy,” he said.

“If I don’t do it, can you guarantee someone else will?"

Looking regretful, Picard said, “No, I cannot guarantee that."

“Then it is my duty to do this. If I have to fight Rigel and the Federation every inch of the way to get to the truth, I will."

“And then what?" asked Riker.

“And then I can do my job,” said Delia. “I can finally peel apart Rigel’s prehistory. I can finally do justice to it by bringing it to light."

“Then you admit this is above and beyond the line of duty?"

“It is my duty," said Delia. “Although, I do admit that this is going the extra mile in the line of duty."

“That is something both I, and I’m sure Starfleet, would appreciate,” said Picard. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this mission would be dangerous?"

“Yes, sir, I am well aware."

“And once we leave here, we cannot protect you?"

“Yes, sir."

“Perhaps we should stay in orbit one day, just to see her settled," said Riker.

“No need, Commander,” said Delia. “They will be keeping a closer eye on me if you do, and I will need to rely on stealth to be successful. If you remain longer than necessary, I will be under suspicion."

"Very well, it’s your choice,” said Riker. “And may I had, certainly a very brave and admirable one."

“I don’t do this lightly, Commander. I would not do it if I saw any other choice."

“May I also add, Number One, that it is also my choice whether or not I approve it?” said Picard.

“Yes, sir."

“Counselor Troi, opinions?"

“Dr Hardeck certainly seems determined to do this one way or another,” she said. “There is some fear in her, but her bravery and suspicions about the Rigellians is far stronger. If you did approve this mission, sir, I’m sure she’d be extremely cautious, subtle, and daring."

“Very well,” Picard said. “Mission approved. But be careful, Dr Hardeck."

"I always am."

***

Thanks to Data, Delia was already fully packed for her arrival on Rigel IV. So she was able to beam down pretty quickly. 

But rather than go directly to the transporter room, she called Data to her room for one last conversation.

Her door chimed. “Come in,” she called.

Data came in. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

“Just a minute, Data,” said Delia. “Before we head there together, there’s something I want to ask you, in private."

Data stepped more fully into the room, and the door closed behind him. He expectantly waited for her to speak.

“Data, before La Forge brought you back, he was concerned that all your memories wouldn't remain intact."

“He told me this,” said Data, "before he tested my memories by asking me questions. If you are concerned that I have forgotten the data you asked me to store in my memory drive, I promise you it is intact."

Delia smiled sadly to herself. “No, Data, that isn’t what I was asking, but it is good to know... No, Data, I was referring to your memories of me."

"You?"

“Yes. I need to know if you remember... a particular memory..."

“A particular memory?"

“When you came to inform me that we were approaching Rigel IV..."

“... Ah. And I caught you on the holodeck with ―"

“Yes. And everything that happened after."

“When we ―"

"Yes."

“I retain all the memories we have together."

“Good,” said Delia.

“Do you still wish me to keep that information to myself?"

"Please."

“Delia, may I ask you a question in return?"

“Of course, Data."

“Although you ask me to keep quiet about our intimacy, you are about to walk into an alien planet to uncover its secrets. What is the difference between you uncovering their secrets and someone uncovering yours?"

“Data... my secret is personal, and I am entitled to my privacy. In fact, if people weren’t entitled to their privacy, it could cause a great amount of psychological harm. However, the secrets that the Rigellians keep, according to all available evidence, would seem to belong to everyone. History, prehistory, the Orions, the Masters, the fossil records of all of Rigel... these are not their secrets to keep. That information belongs to everybody; everybody should be entitled to it."

“I see,” said Data. “I suppose the maxim, ‘Possession is 9/10ths of the law’ comes to mind."

“That’s one way of looking at it. Now come on, we wouldn’t want to keep the others waiting..."

Delia picked up her suitcase, and walked from her room alongside Data.

Walking side by side down the halls on the long trek to the transporter room, they didn’t say much. Delia kept looking towards Data, looking for something meaningful to say, some parting words.

But there was nothing. So they just kept walking on in silence.

Although Data seemed to notice her glances, he also didn’t speak. Perhaps he, too, could think of nothing to say.

When they finally made it to the transporter room, she was faced with O’Brien behind his console and Riker in front of it. O’Brien was telling her something, but she couldn’t listen to it. In fact, she could think of nothing but what was left to say to Data before she headed off on this dangerous mission.

She was prompted, finally, to step on the transporter pad. She had only half ascended the steps before she turned back to stare at Data.

This was her last chance to say it, whatever ‘it’ was. She felt the pressure to say something, even with the others in the room listening in.

“Once I’m out of Rigel, I want to stay in touch. Promise you will, Data, whenever we’re in range."

“I promise,” he said.

“I’ll call you first, of course, once I’m clear of the planet. But I want to stay in touch, after that."

"Understood."

"I..." she began again, hoping to prolong the moment. “Thank you, Data, for all you’ve done for me. For the conversations, and for the memories. For the intellectual exchanges. I never could've thought after such a short amount of time that the decision to leave you now would be this difficult. If my work is worth my life, it is certainly worth being separated from you. It doesn't make it any easier, but I have to do this. I have to continue my work."

"I understand," said Data. "And I agree. Your work should be continued. Although, I cannot say I am not concerned about what lies ahead for you. Stay safe, Delia."

“I should try my best."

“Thank you."

“I look forward to hearing from you, when this is all over. We can update each other on our work, and we can continue to get to know each other better. We might even arrange to meet on the rare occasions we are able to."

"As do I."

Deanna Troi and Geordi La Forge walked in the room, and Delia looked at them in confusion.

Barclay wandered in behind them. He leaned against the wall and kept out of the way.

"What are you two doing here?"

"We’re your friends," said Geordi.

"I… don't have friends. Who invited you?"

"I did," said Riker. "And you guys arrived just in time," he grinned.

"We are your friends," said Deanna.

"You were my therapist," Delia told Troi. 

"I may have only been your therapist," said Troi, "but you opened up to me in those sessions, and it allowed me to feel closer to you. While it is true that this is true for many of my patients, I also got to know you through talking to Data. Those talks also made me feel closer to not only you, but also to Data. I wanted to come here to support the both of you, since you both have come to mean so much to me over the last couple of weeks."

"And Data is my best friend," said La Forge. "Perhaps I didn't trust you at first, but Data likes you, and after having got to know you… I like you a lot more, too."

"See?" said Riker. "You do have friends here, other than Data. We all care about you, Delia."

Delia looked at Riker, then over at La Forge and Troi. "I have friends…" she repeated. For a moment, she was speechless, stumbling over what to say. "I mean… not that I haven't before… on occasion… but I promised myself… I wouldn't…"

"You shouldn't cut yourself off from all inter-social connection," said Troi. "I think you have learned, if from no one else but Data, that you are denying yourself something wonderful by casting out everyone else around you, even while there are still people here who care about you."

“Thank you,” said Delia politely, “that’s kind."

When she looked at Data, with those earnest, curious eyes looking back at her, she felt he was pleading for her to open her heart to his friends. She was ashamed she had ever refused, when he looked at her like that.

Her heart was torn with wanting to isolate herself from them as she’d always done, and wanting to reach out to them.

Finally, they parted, and Delia stepped up onto the transporter pad.

"Energize."

In a beam of blue light, Delia Hardeck vanished off the Enterprise.


End file.
